Exit Stage Left
by lily-bug
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed. *Completed*
1. The End

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Well, I do own a very pretty fake diamond necklace, bathrobe, and my little Buddy Christ statue. . . Anyway, the lovely genius and God among men, Joss Whedon, owns the characters and rights and yadda yadda yadda  
  
Rating: R (don't worry, it'll get good)  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: OHMYGOD! This is my first fan fiction ever! Please be kind and helpful, and I'll love you forever. Anyway, on with the show.  
  
  
  
Chapter One- The End  
  
"LAST STOP, TUCSON!" the conductor yelled with relief. It had been three weeks since he left home, and was prepared for a long weekend of relaxation. The nameless faces filed past him, an equal amount of relief in their faces. This train ride from Portland to Tucson had been a long, hot one, and the passengers were dreaming of hotel rooms with air conditioning.  
  
Smiling and bidding farewell to the last of the travelers, the conductor watched the girl go by. He had spotted her somewhere between Pendleton and Coeur d'Alene. She was a very young and very beautiful woman, yet she looked troubled. The whole way there, she only looked out the window, mournfully sighing. During his midnight walk through, he saw her crying in her sleep. A cowboy at heart, he did not like to see pretty ladies crying.  
  
After a little one on one time with the station manager, he searched for the girl, hoping he could take her out for a beer and let her cry on his shoulder. People needed to help people; he had learned in his sixty-three years.  
  
She was over by the payphone, a suitcase in hand and a backpack slung over her tiny frame. Her dark blonde hair kept falling in her eyes as she whispered into the receiver, shifting her eyes from side to side, to see if anyone was watching her.  
  
The conductor watched her with hope. She was probably on the phone, telling her boyfriend where to pick her up, because as she spoke, some emotion dead weight seemed to fall away. He turned around, grabbing his own bags, and went on with his life, never thinking again of the sad blonde woman.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Her hands shook as she put the two quarters in the phone, unable to find the nerve to make this call. After calling a cab to pick her up, she only had one call to make. She had practiced the speech in the train bathroom, and knew it by heart. Yet, this speech would cause so much emotional damage to her loved ones, and the thought of that broke her.  
  
Gathering her strength, she dialed the telephone number she could recite in her sleep. 374-555-6784. At one in the morning, she knew he would be in bed, and he continually told his friends that he would not answer the phone while he slept. This was perfect, because she had no intention of talking to him.  
  
Four rings, then the familiar sound of his flustered voice. She smiled at the memory of him trying desperately hard to record this message, taking nearly two hours to figure out which button to push. "This is the number of. . . um, Rupert Giles, and I. . . damn!. . . am not available at this moment, so leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. . . god damned this bloody-"  
  
Licking her lips, she began to speak in a soft voice. "Hi Giles, it's me. I'm sorry I bailed out on all of you, but I needed some time to think. And I've done that, think things over, I mean.  
  
"I've realized that I am poison, that I kill everyone I care for, and if I leave, it will save everyone else. After Mom and Dawn. . . well, isn't it the truth?  
  
"I'm not coming back. There are too many memories of death in Sunnydale, and I need to go find a place where they've never heard of the Slayer or Hellmouth. Don't try to find me, I've got a plan and know how to hide. If you feel up to it, I want you to sell my house and the rest of the belongings in it. Take whatever you want, I won't mind. And do whatever you want with the money; spend it for all I care. You've earned it.  
  
"Please tell Willow, Xander, Tara, and Anya that I love them. Tell the two lovebirds that I hope they can work it out and finally get married. Tell Willow that she's the best friend a girl could have, and that I want her and Tara to have a happy life together.  
  
"And, if you can find him, tell Spike that I love him. I've grown to love him more in the last few days then I ever thought possible, and I wish it could've worked out between us, 'cause I really think it would have. Watch out for him. Please.  
  
"Most of all Giles, I want you to know that I love you. I are my watcher, but over the years you've become more than that. You are my dearest friend, and the only father I have." The tears started to pour, and her voice cracked as she continued. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have survived it all.  
  
"I love all of you more than I can explain, and hope you have a wonderful future without pain.  
  
"Goodbye," the last part was almost inaudible through her tears, "forever."  
  
Buffy Summers hung up the receiver, and sobbed without restraint. After a few minutes, she collected herself and made it over to a waiting cab. She would stay in a motel for a few days, figuring out what to do with her life, and then she would move on to another town.  
  
In the cab, she searched through her wallet. All of the credit cards had been overdrawn in Portland, so they couldn't have a way of finding her. Various ID's and cards had been thrown in the train's restroom garbage. All that remained was her California driver's license, the one she finally got a year ago.  
  
$25.00 was given to the driver when they reached the motel. In the cab, she left her driver's license and her identity. Buffy Anne Summers did not exist anymore.  
  
The nameless girl walked into the motel office, and disappeared. Hopefully, forever. 


	2. Found Ya

Disclaimer: You know that really cool guy who writes a show I'm addicted to, Buffy the Vampire Slayer? His name is Joss Whedon. Well, he owns the show and the characters and the thing and the deeley. But, he doesn't own me! You hear that, Jossy-Boy, YOU DON'T OWN ME!  
  
Rating: R (I like the curse words and the sex)  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: 'K, just to let ya know, I set this story right after "Seeing Red". Only, because I'm a bit psychotic, I changed some of the story. Spike did the whole icky attempted rape thing (bastard), and left to get his soul. But, after that, things change. Buffy defeated the Trio and sent them to jail forever. So, Tara never kicked the bucket and Willow didn't go all "scary and veiny". Then, Spike came back and. . . well, you'll find out what happens in a while.  
  
  
  
Chapter Two- Found Ya'  
  
Six Years Later  
  
A loud banging at the back door roused Terry out of his liquor-induced coma. He waddled around the room near the back of the club that served as his home and office. In a tight ball near the radiator, he found a pair of boxers and a tee shirt, stains covering the material. Pulling the shirt over his beer belly, he made his way towards the noise.  
  
"Who the fuck is it?!" he yelled, knowing very well who the fuck it was. Today was Tuesday, the only day the club would be closed, and it was also payday. Only one person would have the guts to come this early to get their money.  
  
Fumbling with the locks, he slowly opened the door. There stood Phoenix Hall, an impatient scowl across her face. Pushing a blue streak of hair away from her face, she pushed the door open a bit more.  
  
"What the hell do you want?" Terry rubbed his eyes while glancing at his wristwatch. 10:45! God, this girl has no humanity.  
  
"My god damned money." She was a small girl, nearly half his size, yet she could pack a punch. The main reason he hired her was because it eliminated the bodyguard position. She'd serve the drinks, then beat up the assholes.  
  
"Gave it to you last night, remember?" It was the same routine. She'd wake him up, demand money, and he'd claim it was already given.  
  
She saw past the bullshit, and continued. "Turn your big ass around and get me my money. I have to pay my damned rent again."  
  
Terry rolled his eyes, then turned around and made his way to the desk. Pulling out the safe underneath the desk, he slowly and painfully counted out ten hundred dollars, her weekly pay. Phoenix was the most expensive of his employees. After working there for a month, she demanded a 100% pay raise, or else she would kick his ass, then quit. And he didn't have to argue with the girl. He had seen her in action.  
  
Pocketing half the cash, he made his way back to the door, hoping she wouldn't count it before leaving. But, again, Phoenix knew how it worked.  
  
Even before he put the money in her hand, she demanded, "All of it, you prick!"  
  
Wincing, Terry pulled out the pocketed cash. It always felt like surgery when he paid the small woman.  
  
"Thank you, sweetie!" She had the amazing ability to go from bitch mode to innocent schoolgirl in seconds, a confusing, and to Terry, attractive quality.  
  
"Well, you know," Terry whispered, grabbing her arm, "I could let you make a few thousand more this afternoon, if you're up to it." His eyebrows danced suggestively.  
  
Prying his hand off of her, and trying to stomach the feeling of vomit, she grinned at her boss. "Maybe next time." With that, she took hold of the door, and slammed it shut.  
  
"Bitch," growled Terry, as he made his way, once again alone, to his bed. Oh well, the other girls would come later today. It might be different.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Phoenix made her way through the cold Chicago air, hugging her coat closer to her body. She lied to Terry about the cash. The rent wasn't due for another three weeks, and even then, it was paid in full. No, today was the only one she had off, and she wanted to go shopping.  
  
Three blocks from the club, she made her way into her favorite clothing store, Mocha. It sold everything a bar waitress would want, and then some. Grabbing a few items off the rack, she headed into an open changing room.  
  
Before trying on a leather corset, she caught a glimpse at herself in the mirror. She looked completely different, a stranger to the girl she left behind years ago. Her once honey blonde hair was dyed dark auburn, then streaked with bleach and neon blue hair dye. A nose and lip ring adorned her face, while many others were pierced into her ears. Tattoos on her wrist, ankles, arms. Completely different.  
  
And that is what she had strived for. When she left home, she decided to become a new person. After jumping around the country for a year or so, she landed in Chicago, poor and hungry. A brief encounter with Terry, and she had a job. The bar did a lot of illegal things, she understood, but she had money and job security, for the moment.  
  
At the cash register, she paid $243.94 for the clothes. Briefly flirting with the cashier, she again headed into the winter air. Chicago was always buzzing, and with a bit of effort, she blended into the scenery.  
  
Near the crosswalk, she felt someone watching her. Although it had been years since she had trained, her senses had remained with her. And she could feel someone staring at her, watching her every move.  
  
Phoenix shrugged off the feeling. It might have been some pervert just looking at her ass. The light signaled, and she made her way across the road.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Todd Dirnt watched the young girl cross the street from his truck, then quickly snapped a few pictures of her with his digital camera. In a few moments, they would appear on his laptop, and he would confirm the match.  
  
He had found her a few hours ago, leaving the club she worked at, Uranium. From what he had gathered, it was a posh club, known for its good drinks, attractive girls, and illegal drug trafficking. That had to be the reason she dressed so expensively, what with all the money her employer was raking in.  
  
When he first spotted her, he nearly brushed it off. But as he looked closer at the girl, he saw similar facial features between the multi- colored hair girl, and the one he was looking for. This girl had obviously tried to alter her appearance as much as she could, and it worked a little. But her nose, her lips, even her frown couldn't be altered.  
  
The laptop flashed, and the one of the pictures he had taken appeared on the screen. Clicking on the file menu, he selected 'COMPARE'. On the space next to the picture, another one appeared. It had been taken a few years earlier, and she was brightly smiling at the camera, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. The computer began to do its work.  
  
Tapping on the dashboard, waiting for the results, he watched the girl buy a latte from a vender. If this were the girl, nine weeks of searching would be over. The people looking for her had stressed the importance that she be found quickly, and paid a hefty fee in order to make it so. Not that he was complaining, it's just that these people were so desperate. . .  
  
A little box flashed up in the middle of the screen. Bold letters read off the results. It was as clear as day. "Comparison complete. Results=match. Accuracy=95.7%"  
  
Grinning, Todd closed his laptop. That was all he needed. Adjusting in his seat, he watched the girl run into a boutique.  
  
"Hello, Miss Summers," he whispered. 


	3. Help

Disclaimer: I was hanging outside the Quick Stop with my hetro-life-partner Silent Bob, when this snooched out son of a bitch comes over to us. "Hey, you cock-faced mother fucker, you wanna nickel bag or what?" I says. "No," says the ass-cock, "I'm Joss Whedon, and I own everything that has to do with Buffy the Vampire Slayer, so I've got my own stash of blunts." Then I says, "FUCK YOU, YOU ARE A BALL-LICKER!" Then Silent Bob performed his Jedi mind trick, and this Joss bastard gave me James Marster's home address.  
  
Rating: R (I know, you're probably all "Hey, when is it gonna get all R- rated?" Don't worry, I have a very dirty mouth, and an incredibly dirty mind.)  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: Sorry, I would have updated sooner, but homework took over my life. I HATE CALCULUS!!!!! Oh, and European history bites balls too. Anyway, thank you sooo much for the wonderful reviews. This, as I said before, is my first fan fiction ever, and it's great to know that people like it. I'll try to update it at least twice a week, a chapter at a time.  
  
PS: Faith Drusilla, I'll do whatever the hell I want, bitch! LOL, and I love ya much.  
  
  
  
Chapter Three- Help  
  
"Why did they even bother to open it up?" Phoenix sighed as she fiddled on top of a barstool. Uranium was a ghost town. No Doubt was in town this evening, so every drinking individual in Chicago was trying to score tickets. She would have gone herself, but Terry demanded she work.  
  
Across the club sat a group of women, celebrating a bachlorette party or something like that. A few other couples danced on the floor. Of course, Terry's regular "customers" hung out in the back room, trying whatever new illegal substance he had gotten his hands on.  
  
For the thousandth time, she sighed while twirling her tray on the bar. Leaning her head on her fist, she let out an enormous belch.  
  
"Nice one," a voice next to her commented. Phoenix turned her head to study her neighbor.  
  
He was an older man, nearing fifty, his silver hair neatly parted and slicked down. Five o'clock shadow covered his face like it was sand. Leaning down, he pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his battered raincoat, lighting the end of one with a cheap lighter. When he offered her one, she merely shook her head.  
  
"Never been one for the smoking," she sighed. "So, is it a waste to ask if you want something?"  
  
"No, you can get me a beer." His head turned towards the young girl, offering a brief smile.  
  
Phoenix stood slowly then went around the bar to fix the guy a drink. $6.50, a pretty expensive beer.  
  
The man leaned his head backwards, gulping the beer. He then wiped the foam off of his lips with the back of his hand.  
  
"What's your name, cutie?" the stranger asked when his breath returned to him.  
  
Shaking her head, she gave an annoyed grin. *Every single night. . * "Phoenix."  
  
He looked at her in disbelief. "That your real name? How the hell do ya get a name like that?"  
  
"Well, my mom was some dippy flower child, and felt the name gave me power."  
  
Chuckling, he took a drag from his cigarette. "Well, you don't look like a Phoenix."  
  
"Then what do I look like?"  
  
The man smiled as he squished his cigarette out in the ashtray.  
  
"You look like a Buffy."  
  
Phoenix felt her heart drop into her stomach. Her eyes grew large as her mouth fell open.  
  
"Who the hell are you?"  
  
The strange man reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. "Todd Dirnt, Private Investigator. I was hired by a few of your friends in Sunnydale." Phoenix began to protest. "Honey, don't try to deny it. I've done all the necessary things to figure out who you are. Photo ID, fingerprints, old newspaper clippings, records. I found ya, Buffy Summers."  
  
Phoenix leaned in, whispering to the man. "That's not me. Buffy doesn't exist anymore."  
  
"What happened to her?" Todd's face was filled with concern for the young woman.  
  
Phoenix sighed. "Reality. The fact that you can't protect everyone. You catching my drift?"  
  
His eyes began to well up with tears. Before him was a poor, lost girl who didn't understand how much she was loved by the people at home. "Buffy. . . Phoenix, I don't know what happened to you; your friends didn't tell me a lot about you. But, they DO need you. It's pretty obvious. For the past nine weeks, this Willow girl calls me, always asking 'Did you find her?'. They need your help, something's wrong, and they say only you can stop it or something like that."  
  
Her heart began to beat a bit faster while the possibilities raced through her head. Maybes Giles was sick, or Xander got hurt, or maybe, God, please don't let it be, maybe it was the end of the world all over again.  
  
Turning her head away from the man, she began to quietly speak. "You don't know how hard it is. I left because I was hurting the people I love. Every time I think of Sunnydale, I think I'm going to vomit."  
  
Todd reached out to pat her hand. "Sorry honey, it has to be tough. I should know. . ."  
  
The young girl whipped her head towards Todd. "What?"  
  
He sighed while pulling out another cigarette. "When I was about nineteen, I ran away from home. My family was awful and I needed to leave. Then, about three years later, my mom died. They found me and brought me back for the funeral. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do." He stopped to take a long drag off his cigarette, wincing at the memory. "But, I realized that I needed to go home, sort out the stuff I left behind."  
  
Phoenix looked away again, and Todd could see tears sprouting from the corner of her eyes. "How about this: Let's pretend that I haven't found you. Your friends at home still don't know. I'll give you a few days to think things over, and you can decide what to do. But, I'm still gonna call them. Just not right now." Todd stood up, and pulled out a ten from his coat pocket. Setting it down on the bar counter, he leaned towards Phoenix. "I know you'll do the right thing." With that, he turned around and left the bar. The young girl looked down at the money, and didn't move for a long time.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Phoenix grabbed a suitcase from the closet and ran back to the bedroom, throwing it down on the bed. Scooping up clothes from the dresser, she stuffed them into the suitcase and other bags she'd found. In a frenzy, she ran around the apartment, gathering items she had collected over the past years.  
  
I'm not running, I'm not running, I'm not running. . .  
  
Her little encounter with the private investigator spooked her. No way in hell was she going back to Sunnydale. Her plan was to catch a plane, skip around the country for a few weeks, change identities, and find a different place to live. Maybe she'd travel to Mexico, or even Europe.  
  
She raced into the closet again, looking for the box which held her expensive jewelry. As she pulled it from the mass of boxes that cluttered the top shelf, a rain of junk came pouring down.  
  
"GOD DAMN IT!" She really didn't need this. The contents of the closet littered the floor, and she bent down to sift through them.  
  
It was near her favorite pair of Prada sandals that she found it. The picture of her, Xander, and Willow. They had fallen asleep after watching a movie. Xander slept at the end of the couch, feet on the table, and head back, obviously snoring. Willow was next to him, legs curled underneath her, and her head lying on Xander's shoulder. As for her, she was lounging against the other end of the couch, her legs draping over Willow and Xander's thighs.  
  
Phoenix smiled sadly at the picture, remembering the love she felt for her friends. And here she was, packing up and ditching them when they needed her the most.  
  
She stood up, placing the photo on the dresser, and dumped her belongings out of the suitcases and bags. Then, she began to repack, choosing with care the things she would take.  
  
A few hours later, she was ready to leave. The airport had an eight AM flight to Los Angeles, and she could rent a car to drive to Sunnydale. Checking that everything in her apartment was turned off, she picked up her bags and left the apartment. Walking down the stairs, the realization of what she was doing slowly came to her.  
  
Oh God. . . I'm going home! 


	4. Memories, and Surprises

Disclaimer: Blood poured down the right side of my temple that had recently been slashed with a knife. "Say it!" screamed the man. "Fuck you," I whispered, my voice hoarse from hours of screaming. "SAY IT!!" he howled again, this time holding the knife to my throat. After a few moments of silence, he slowly began to push the weapon into my voice box, and the pressure became too much. "Alright, alright," I coughed, as he released the knife from my throat, "Joss Whedon owns everything that is Buffy the Vampire Slayer related, and I will never ever EVER claim it's mine!" A smile began to creep up the sides of his mouth, and that's when I began to get pissed off. "I'm so gonna kick your ass, Angel."  
  
Rating: R (for my potty mouth, the sex MAY come soon)  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: By popular demand, at least by the few people who've reviewed it, and the constant prattling of my sister, Anyanka Faith, chapter four is up. God, I'm loving everyone who has reviewed, it makes my tiny, non-existent heart swell with pride. I'm a gonna have chapter five up by Thursday (no school for me Friday) and possibly chapter six up by Sunday, but don't bet any money on it. Anyway, half of this chapter is a flash back to why Buffy left, so if you get confused, I apologize. Hugs and kisses to all.  
  
PS: Anyanka Faith, I fart in your general direction. :-P Angel is the DEVIL, long live Spike! Oh, and Riley has girly hair.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Four- Memories, And Surprises  
  
  
  
  
  
Six Years Earlier  
  
"Dawn Summers! Get your skinny little ass down here NOW!" Buffy screamed from the bottom of the stairs, coat and stake in hand. God, I am not letting some creature of the night get his thing on because my sister can't find a shirt that matches her pants.  
  
She could hear someone frantically stamp around upstairs. Buffy rolled her eyes, then walked to the weapons chest for a few more stakes. It was the second time that week she agreed to take Dawn on patrol, but because of her lateness, the blonde was thinking it might be her last.  
  
Dawn bounded down the stairs while tying her hair up with a rubber band. "Ok! I'm so ready to kick some undead booty!" Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement; Buffy couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Next time you decide to play dress up when we're patrolling, I'm leaving you behind," the older sister mock-scolded. Dawn merely smiled, then linked her arm through Buffy's as they left the house.  
  
The two sisters walked though the town, talking up a storm while looking for vampires. Life was good. Willow had moved out days earlier to live with Tara. Xander and Anya, although they were still on the rocks, were slowly patching things up. Giles, a month earlier, moved back, claiming London was just "too bloody boring". There were a million things to talk about, not to mention the newly souled Spike.  
  
And whom should they run into at the Elusian Cemetery but the vampire himself. He had been coming around lately, hanging out and helping to teach Dawn about killing demons. Also, although he didn't say it aloud, he was slowly trying to mend fences with the Slayer.  
  
"Hey Bit, here to kill some of my relatives?" he questioned while mussing up her hair.  
  
Dawn scowled, pushing his hands away. "No, just you," she pouted as she smoothed her hair down.  
  
Spike smiled. "I'd like to see you try, little one." Before she could respond, Spike picked her up and spun her around in circles. Dawn screamed at first, then began to laugh.  
  
"Hey, could you guys please grow up, I'm trying to teach my sister that patrolling is a serious job," Buffy yelled.  
  
The vampire stopped spinning and put Dawn on the ground. "Your Big Sis is right, Bit. Patrolling is a very serious job, and shouldn't be taken lightly," Spike lectured, trying to keep a straight face. Dawn held back a giggle, seeing the mischief in his eyes.  
  
"Thank you Spike." Buffy turned around, only to have Spike run over and swing her over his shoulders like a bag of potatoes.  
  
"LET GO OF ME! I'LL STAKE YOU, I SWEAR TO GOD!" Buffy screamed at the top of her lungs. Spike turned to Dawn, and rolled his eyes.  
  
"I guess the Slayer doesn't want to have any fun, like always," Spike sighed, then let the blonde girl go. She jumped to her feet, then playfully punched him on the arm. After a few laughs, the three began to walk together.  
  
Minutes later, Buffy could feel something stirring in her stomach. Her Slayer-sense was off; something was around. "Dawn. Behind the mausoleum. He's alone. Go around the left of it and catch him by surprise," she whispered, handing her sister a stake. Dawn nodded, eyes seriously contemplating what to do. As she took off in the vampire's direction, the other two headed off the other way to watch her.  
  
They squatted in the bushes, the vampire clearly in view. "How's Dawn doing?" Spike asked, worry for the girl obvious in his voice.  
  
Buffy smiled, looking at the blond. "She doing great. Last night, she dusted three. It's kinda scary how good she is."  
  
"Well, like sister like sister." He moved closer to her, and was surprised at the fact that she did not move away.  
  
All conversation stopped when Dawn came into view. She was right behind the vampire, who was clearly drunk and stumbling about. It would be an easy kill.  
  
She raised the stake and gathered her courage. "Hey, ASSHOLE!"  
  
The vampire turned, surprised by the voice "Whaddya want?" he slurred.  
  
Dawn slammed the stake into his chest. "Ya got something on your shirt." The vampire stood amazed until he "poofed" away.  
  
Buffy and Spike jumped up, clapping for the girl. "Did ya see that! I even said something witty before he went poof!" Dawn squealed, jumping up and down. The three were so excited, that they didn't see another vampire come up behind her.  
  
"Ohmygod! That was awesome!" Buffy praised.  
  
"Dawn that was PERFECT! Although next time you need to. . ." lectured Spike, but Buffy tuned him out as she saw the vampire sneak up behind her sister. She tried to run over to help Dawn, but every muscle in her body froze. Gathering up all her strength, she yelled:  
  
"DAWN! BEHIND YOU!!"  
  
Before Dawn could turn around, the vampire grabbed her chin and forehead, and in one move, broke her neck.  
  
Buffy screamed. The vampire saw the other two and ran off, dropping Dawn's lifeless body to the ground. Spike took off, shouting horribly as he chased after the vampire, slipping his game face on. Rage raced through his body, the demon had taken control. Finally, he caught up to the young vampire, threw him to the ground, and began to crazily tear him apart. In the end, all that was left was a bloody pile of flesh.  
  
Suddenly, he realized what happened. Jumping to his feet, he sprinted back to Buffy.  
  
She sat on the ground, Dawn head in her lap, her sister's brown hair spilling over her legs. Buffy sobbed, stroking her sister's hair. Spike came up behind her and crouched.  
  
"Bit?" Tears began to fall as he looked at the Slayer, not wanting to accept what had happened.  
  
Buffy looked at him, face streaked with hot tears, and slowly shook her head.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
The car behind her honked loudly. Phoenix jumped as she came out of her daydream, then realized that the light was green. Pushing on the gas, the car began to move.  
  
About two hours ago, she landed in the LA airport. All through the plane ride, she played that night over and over in her head. While at the car rental place, she remembered the nightmare that took place later.  
  
She had to plan the funeral, call her dad, and above all, mourn her sister's death. Giles, Xander, Willow, Anya, Tara, and Spike stayed at her house, helping her out and crying with her. For five days, she moved through a fog of disbelief, and on the sixth day, she came out of the fog to realize what a burden she was. On the seventh day, she ran off, leaving everyone behind.  
  
As Phoenix drove, she looked at the familiar sights, the memories washing over her. There wasn't any particular place she was going; she just needed to see everything.  
  
To her surprise, she found herself on Revello drive. She drove down her old street, taking it all in. The cars were different, as were the children playing in the street, and most of the houses had been painted, but it was still the same street.  
  
Finally, she came up to 1630 Revello. The house was painted a light gray, with dark blue trim. In the driveway sat a gold SUV, a red tricycle, and a bright pink bike. Phoenix sighed. So good old Giles sold it.  
  
Instinct took over, and she pulled up next to the curb and parked the rental car. She needed to meet the people who moved in, to see if they were worthy of her home.  
  
She slowly walked up the steps, examining the flowers in the garden and the new porch swing. Timidly, she knocked on the door.  
  
"One minute!" a voice called from inside. She smiled as she heard a baby laugh. That was the kind of family she wanted to live in her house, a big one.  
  
The door opened slowly, and Phoenix gasped as she saw the woman on the other side.  
  
She was a young woman, not even thirty. She wore a long black skirt and a burgundy tank top. Her short, light brown hair framed her smiling face. In one hand, she held a dishtowel, in the other, a spoon covered in spaghetti sauce.  
  
"Can I help you?" she asked in a cheerful voice. God, she's treating me like a customer at the Magic Box, Phoenix realized.  
  
"Anya?" she asked in a small voice.  
  
"Yes?" 


	5. The Power of Spices

Disclaimer: His hands are ice cold, and as each second passes, I know he is slipping from me. "Jack, you can't leave me, we're soul mates." I would cry, but my tears freeze on my cheeks. He looks up at me, half of his body submerged in the cold ocean, the other half clinging to the door I am now currently lying on. "Lily, I'm sorry, but you have to go on without me. You're so incredibly intelligent, beautiful, mystifying. You're stories are so wonderful, I don't know how you could even want some poor artist like me around." I smile at the guy. "No Jack, I love you more than life itself. And those stories I write, I just stole the characters from Joss Whedon's 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'." "What, you STOLE those wonderful characters," he's getting pretty angry, "Well, fuck you up your ass, you loser!" With that, he slips into the ocean, leaving me forever.  
  
Rating: R (I know, it's only been cursing. But, (ooh ooh ooh, spoiler) there will be some B/S action in the future)  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: See see see, I told you I'd have it up by Thursday, even though it's 11:00 PM at my home, but it's still technically Thursday. Whoo hoo! Oh, just to avoid future confusion, I've placed the current time period in 2008, six years from now. The flash backs will take place in 2002. I know, it's confusing. Anyway, I have a very low sense of self worth, so reviews help boost up my confidence. :) Love you all, and please don't pet the kittens.  
  
PS: If you couldn't tell, the disclaimer was stolen from Titanic, and the one from chapter three was taken from the awesome movie Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. I have no soul.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Five- The Power of Spices  
  
Anya held a cup of chai tea to her lips and took a long sip, never taking her eyes off the young woman sitting across from her. The spiciness of the tea did nothing to sooth the feelings that permeated through the living room. She could feel Buffy, her presence and the emotions her body gave off. All the anger, pain, sadness, and hardness showed in her once clear aura. The retired vengeance demon sighed, put her cup of tea on the coffee table, and looked at her old friend.  
  
"When did you get back?" Anya asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Today. A few hours ago." She shifted in the overstuffed green chair, turning all her attention to the pictures on the side table. Pictures of the family, of Anya and Xander's children, of their friends.  
  
Phoenix smiled sadly at the photos, then began to look around the living room. It was a cozy environment: large, comfortable chairs and sofas, bright colors, children's toys scattered about.  
  
"How long have you been living here?" Phoenix enquired, her eyes finally settling on the woman.  
  
Anya smiled. "We moved in after our wedding, five years ago. Giles sold it to us. I found out I was pregnant three weeks before the wedding, and we needed to find a bigger place to live than the old apartment."  
  
"How many kids do you have?"  
  
The beaming demon pointed to the pictures on the coffee table. "Two. Gillian's almost five, and little Ryan is just a year old."  
  
Her face melted when she saw Buffy's sad expression. "Honey, what's wrong?"  
  
She shook her head, trying to push the tears away. "I was right. I was right when I decided to leave," her body shook as she began to cry heavily. "You guys are happier without me around."  
  
Gasping, Anya sat up. "Buffy-"  
  
"Phoenix."  
  
"What?"  
  
She looked at her friend, tears streaming down her face. "My name is Phoenix."  
  
This is gonna be hard, Anya sighed to herself. "Sorry. Phoenix, I don't know where you got the idea that-"  
  
A pair of small feet banging down the stairs interrupted her. Phoenix turned around, and came face to face with the sweetest child in the world.  
  
Long, curly black hair pulled away from her face in a Pollyanna ponytail. She wore a light blue and green plaid sundress with white sandals. Her round, rosy, angelic face was a combination of her parents, and long lashes framed her dark green eyes.  
  
"Mommy, are we. . ." she paused, looking at the stranger in the living room. "Who's this lady?"  
  
Anya stood up, trying hard to explain it to the precocious four year old. "This is an old friend of Mommy's. Her name is Phoenix. Phoenix, this is Gillian."  
  
The two smiled at each other, then Gillian walked over to her mommy and pulled her down. "She's very sad. She's got black polka dots in her aura," whispered the young girl.  
  
Her mother straightened herself up, trying to hide the joy in her face. Her powers are coming along nicely. "It's rude to whisper, Jilly."  
  
Gillian turned to Phoenix, then jumped into her lap. "I'm sorry. Mommy's teaching me how to put on a façade of politeness in order to make a sale. Isn't that right, Mommy?" The little girl looked at her mother.  
  
Anya rolled her eyes. "Yes, Jilly, that's right." Gotta teach her about being subtle. "What did you want, baby?"  
  
"Oh," said the child, who jumped off her new friend's lap. "I wanted to know if tonight is Spaghetti Night."  
  
"It is, Jilly."  
  
She began to hop around the room. "YES! Auntie Pillow said she's gonna teach me how to levitate a pencil. Then, I'm gonna talk to Auntie Tara's tummy, and play Playstation with Uncle Billy." She ran to the stairs, made it halfway, then came back down. "You should come too, Phoenix. You could meet my family. They're really nice." With that, she ran upstairs.  
  
Phoenix turned towards Anya, a questioning look on her face. "Auntie Pillow? Uncle Billy?"  
  
Anya laughed to herself while sitting down. "Willow and Spike. Cute little names she calls them." Anya reached for her tea. "Every Wednesday, Willow, Tara, Giles, Olivia, and Spike come over for dinner. We have our Scooby meeting later that night."  
  
Phoenix smiled sadly. "How is everyone?"  
  
"Great. I mean, everyone's fine."  
  
"What about you and Xander?"  
  
She sat up, very excited to talk about her favorite subject. "Well, Xander started up his own construction firm and is making a ton of money. And we expanded the Magic Box two years ago; we've had that much business. Tara's thinking about making a mail-order service and a website so we can go globally."  
  
"Tara works there now?"  
  
Anya nodded. "When she got inseminated, she wanted to find a simple job to do so she wouldn't be sitting at home all day. Xander was the one who suggested it, even though I didn't want to hire some pregnant lady who would get paid $12.50 an hour for doing nothing."  
  
Phoenix's ears pricked up. "Tara's PREGNANT?"  
  
"Yeah, she got inseminated, like I said." Anya leaned in towards her friend. "A lot of things happened while you were gone. Willow's a teacher; Giles is married and has a little boy. . . Hell, even Spike and Xander became friends."  
  
A look of hurt rested on the girl's face. "I know. I had to leave. I. . . I j-just couldn't stay."  
  
Anya walked over to Phoenix and kneeled down, cupping the girl's face in her hands. "This is me being sincere, I've worked on it. Please don't leave again."  
  
"Well, what am I supposed to do, just come back in and pretend everything's ok? I'm different, everyone else is different, why should I come back?"  
  
The demon took her hands away, then sat on the coffee table across from Phoenix. "Something bad is going on. I don't know what, I always ignore Giles when he does those boring speeches, but it's something really bad. Giles seems to think that only you can stop it, what with you being the Slayer and all. We even hired a private investigator to find you; that's how much we need you."  
  
"I know all about the investigator. He found me and convinced me to come back. Why else would I be here?"  
  
Anya shrugged. "I don't know, but you're here anyway. So, stop moping and buck up, you have a demon to kill."  
  
BUZZZ! The egg timer in the kitchen halted whatever Phoenix was about to say. The two women got up and walked to the kitchen. As Phoenix sat on a barstool, Anya opened the oven and pulled out the most delicious-looking loaf of garlic bread she had ever seen before.  
  
"Oh my GOD! That looks incredible." Phoenix mouth began to water.  
  
A plan began to form quickly in Anya's mind. "Well, I just have to put some parmesan cheese on, pop it back in the oven, and it'll be ready for dinner," a slight smile formed in the corners of her mouth, "If you wanted, you could stay for dinner. I always make too much food."  
  
Phoenix shook her head out of the food-induced daze. "Oh no no NO! I am NOT staying for dinner." The surprise melted away, and was replaced by sadness. "I can't face them. When I left, you all had to clean up after me. I'm surprised you even let me into your house." Then, Phoenix began to get worried; "You're not going to tell anyone I'm back, are you? They can't know I'm here!"  
  
I've got you now, darling. Anya sheepishly smiled at her friend while grating some cheese on the bread. "Well, you could stay here for dinner, and no one would know you're here."  
  
"How in the hell would you do that?"  
  
Anya put the cheese grater aside, and popped the loaf back in the oven. She turned around, and went to the "liquor cabinet" above the refrigerator. "You can never tell Xander about this, he doesn't like it that I do stuff like this," she said firmly, and pulled out a dictionary-sized hardback book. "I quit being a vengeance demon before I married Xander. He didn't want his children to think Mommy's job was to castrate men and give them gonorrhea and things like that. So I quit," she sat on the bar stool next to Phoenix, and set the book down on the counter, "But, he doesn't know I still have my powers."  
  
She began flipping through the book, until she came to the page she wanted. "This is a curse that will make you invisible to everyone, except for me. Then, you can hang around tonight and decide what to do." Phoenix shot up from her seat. "NO! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO PUT A CURSE ON ME, AND I AM NOT GOING TO BE INVISIBLE AGAIN!" screamed the ex-Slayer.  
  
Anya began to protest, when she heard little Ryan cry from his playpen. She hurried back to the living room, and picked up the boy. Phoenix slowly followed her friend, and watched as Anya rocked Ryan back and forth to put him to sleep. He nuzzled his curly blond head into his mother's chest, and slowly fell back asleep.  
  
"Honey," she whispered, putting Ryan back into his playpen, "You wouldn't be invisible for a long time. I'm thinking three hours, tops. Hang around the house; see if you want everyone to know you're here. I would be the only one able to hear or see you, so if you wanted the spell taken off, I'd do it, quickly. Please think about it."  
  
The multi-colored hair girl looked into the playpen, and began to feel secure as she watched the little boy sleep. Only a few hours, and it'd be taken off quickly. . . Phoenix sighed.  
  
"Do it quick before I change my mind."  
  
Anya squealed with delight, then pulled her friend back into the kitchen.  
  
"Sit on the stool, and don't move," commanded the demon. She hurried back to the cabinet and pulled out a few spices and magic charms. The spices were spread in a circle around Phoenix, and the charm cleaned her aura of any impurities that might tweak the spell.  
  
"Now, close your eyes, and don't move a muscle until I tell you to." Anya slowly began to speak in her demon dialect, every word foreign to Phoenix. She then read the part in English. "Encompass this creature in the world of darkness, hid from the inhabitants of this dimension. Oh, Hecate, make the world blind to your daughter."  
  
A shiver went through her body. Seconds passed.  
  
"Don't move, I just have to check. . . Yeah, the spell worked, you're invisible."  
  
Before Phoenix could answer, they heard a car pull up to the house.  
  
"Just in time to test it out. Xander's home." 


	6. Observer to an Ordinary Family

Disclaimer: The alarm buzzes. 9:00. I feel dirty, used, like a hanky. He rolls over, lying his arm across my naked body. "What the hell do you want?" I don't want to deal with him. It's so much easier when we're just fucking. "You baby." He looks over at me, trying hard to look sexy, but failing. I push him off. "Is there a problem, Lily?" he asks, sitting up. I lose it. "You know the only reason I consider fucking your brains out, Joss Whedon, is because you own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and to write stories based on those characters, I need your permission." "Lily," he calmly states, getting up to use the toilet, "I've always known. That's how it is."  
  
Rating: R- was that enough sex for you, you goddamned perverts? (it sure wasn't enough for me)  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: Yes, I kept the other part of my deal. I said "Up by Sunday", and it is. *Does the happy dance* I'm hoping you all enjoy this story. I've gotten a great deal of pleasure making it up, and it pleases me to know that some of you out there want me to continue it. I've got a few more stories cooking in my brain, so when I'm about 90% done with this one (just to clarify, I'm so not), I'll start the next one. All in all, I've had a fantastic weekend, and that greatly affects my writing. I especially hope you like this chapter, seeing as how I'm introducing the new "grown up" people Phoenix left behind. Oh, by the way, I'm gonna keep referring to the new Buffy as Phoenix, seeing as how the old Buffy "died". If it's confusing, I really don't give a fuck. (Kidding!) Gropes and French kisses.  
  
PS: Thank you so much Fastpilot. I had completely forgotten what I could do with the whole "Phoenix-being-invisible" plot. You saved my ass and gave this story a new edge. Included with the grope and French kissing, you get a twenty minute make out session with Ryan Philippe or Reese Witherspoon, whoever you choose. Thank you again.  
  
  
  
Chapter Six- Observer to an "Ordinary" Family  
  
  
  
Phoenix sat on the stool, unsure of what was to happen. All right, I'm invisible to everyone.  
  
"What should I do now Anya?" she asked as the demon quickly put the magic supplies away, and began walking to the door.  
  
"Observe, follow, don't interact." Anya replied, looking over her shoulder. Phoenix got up from her chair to follow, and as she did, the door opened and Xander Harris walked in.  
  
At first, Phoenix didn't recognize the guy. The Xander Phoenix remembered was a guy who wore jeans and a tee shirt, always informal. The Xander who walked in the front door wasn't that guy.  
  
His dark hair was neatly trimmed, slicked and parted perfectly. His suit was obviously expensive, a charcoal gray coat and slacks with a white button-up shirt, a light blue silk tie completing the outfit. In one hand, he held a stack of manila envelopes, in the other, a black leather briefcase.  
  
But, it was still Xander. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes was still there, as was the goofy smile that creeped on his face as he kissed Anya.  
  
"Hey, how's the little wife?" he asked jokingly, dropping everything in his hands, and rapping his arms around Anya.  
  
"Watch it, Harris," she warned, then smiled and went back in to kiss him.  
  
"Sorry Awn, I just like to pretend I wear the pants in this house." He let go of her and picked up the items he dropped. The two then walked into the kitchen.  
  
"How was work?" he asked while walking to the island to make the salad. Phoenix followed him and sat down in the barstool next to him. He didn't even suspect anything. Good, it's working, she thought.  
  
"Usual," the demon began to stir the large pot of spaghetti sauce, "Some moron thought he could buy Dawson's "Voix Aout" and a Hephestuse crystal and get past me. See that book contains a spell to conjure Majare demons, and the crystal is used to control them. So, he wanted his own pet demon that shoots poison out of his eyes. I tore up his membership card, and then I coaxed Tara into cursing him with a rash on his testicles."  
  
"So, all in all it was a good day?"  
  
"Pretty much. How about you?"  
  
Xander shrugged, "Had to stop construction on that new office building downtown when the guys found a collection of freshly decapitated heads underground," he shook his head, "I love living here." He laughed to himself, then put the salad into the refrigerator. "I'm a gonna go see how Ryan is doing," he announced, walking into the living room. Phoenix looked at Anya and motioned her head to the other room, indicating she was going to follow. Anya nodded, then went back to stirring the sauce.  
  
She came in on her friend holding the awake and gurgling baby. "How's my little guy," he cooed in a high-pitched voice, "I've bet you've had enough of this house of estrogen. This weekend, you and I are watching sports and doing other manly things, like drinking beer and wrestling." Ryan responded by blowing a raspberry in his dad's face. Saliva now coated his face, but he ignored it when his son gave him a big, toothless grin. "Yes, that's how it works. Your parents take care of you and you merely spit in their face. I'm teaching you well."  
  
Gillian came down the stairs, now wearing a play tiara and fairy wings. Her face lit up with joy when she saw Xander. "DADDY!"  
  
Xander set Ryan back in his playpen, then bent down to pick up his daughter as she ran towards him. Except, she ran over to punch her dad in the stomach.  
  
He doubled over, his face twisted in pain. "OWWWW! Why did you do that, Jilly?"  
  
Gillian backed away, her arms crossed and a look of anger on her little face. "You didn't take me to school today. I had to take the bus with all the smelly, small mortals."  
  
"Jilly," he picked up his daughter, a look of annoyance on his face, "First of all, I told you I couldn't take you to school today because I had to meet with the evil Government Inspector. Secondly, don't punch me. Finally, YOU are half-mortal, so don't go calling your classmates names like that."  
  
She sighed, then wriggled out of her father's grasp. "Whatever, dominating patriarchal figure." She turned on her heal, and stomped into the kitchen.  
  
Xander rolled his eyes, then picked up his son again. "At least I have one child who likes me." His eyes then grew wide as he lifted the baby higher to sniff his diaper. "Or not. Awn, Ryan took a dump in his pants! I'm going up to change him!" yelled the man, holding his son at arms' length. His attention turned back towards his child. "You were probably waiting all day to do that, weren't you." Jumping over a footstool with the baby still in his hands, he ran upstairs.  
  
Silently laughing to herself, Phoenix began to walk back towards the kitchen when the doorbell rang. Anya strode out to open the door, but stopped briefly to wink at her friend before turning the knob.  
  
A very dignified Willow and a very pregnant Tara entered. The navy blue skirt and jacket Willow wore made her look every part the college professor. But in true Willow fashion, her jacket was slung across her arm, revealing a cute aqua green tank top. Tara simply glowed, her light pink sundress proudly showing off her swelled belly. As Anya said hello, Xander rushed down the stairs, Ryan bouncing in his father's arms, to meet the girls.  
  
"Hey Wills, torture any students lately?" he asked, awkwardly juggling the baby and kissing the redhead on the cheek. Willow took Ryan from his father and began to rock him. "And may I say Tara, you look radiant." Xander slowly kissed the pregnant woman on the cheek, not wanting to disturb her stomach.  
  
Tara rolled her eyes. "I feel like a float in the Macy's Day Parade."  
  
Willow patted her on the belly and kissed her. "You look perfect, baby."  
  
"Yeah, sure." Tara mocked annoyance, then began to waddle into the living room. "Sorry guys, I need to sit down before my ankles give out," she said, slowly sitting in the large green loveseat.  
  
The others followed her. Willow sat next to Tara, and began to blow raspberries on Ryan's stomach. Xander and Anya plopped into the two armchairs. Noticing that Phoenix was still in the hallway, Anya made a slight motion for her come in and sit somewhere in the room. Phoenix chose to sit on a wooden chair by the fireplace.  
  
"So, how many more weeks?" Xander asked, watching the two aunts fussing over their nephew.  
  
"Four, but the doctor said she could pop at any moment," answered the redhead.  
  
This time, Tara gave her partner a genuine look of annoyance. "Please don't address me as if I were a bottle of champagne, darling."  
  
"Sorry," Willow weakly replied, not wanting to upset the woman.  
  
Xander shook his head. "Don't worry Will, I got that a lot when Miss Sunshine over here was pregnant," he said, glancing at his wife.  
  
"Fuck you, Harris!" growled Anya, just as Gillian walked into the room.  
  
"Mommy, do you need to have your mouth washed out with soap?" scolded the child as she went over to her aunts. Gillian gave Willow an Eskimo kiss, then sweetly gave Tara a kiss on the belly. Turning to the room, she put a finger to her lips and began to whisper, "Shhh, the little one is sleeping, so all of you need to be quiet." She looked at Tara for reassurance. Grinning, Tara righted the crown on the dark-haired girl.  
  
"Right, Fairy Princess."  
  
Gillian nodded, then turned her attention the window behind her aunts. "Uncle Giles, Auntie Olivia, and Derek just got outta their car," announced the child. "Don't worry Mommy, I'll get the door." She skipped into the hallway and opened the front door. "Welcome to the Harris residence, may I enquier as to how I may help you."  
  
Two adult hands reached out and picked up the child, giving her a tight hug. Giles then entered the house and put Gillian down. Following him was Olivia, who was holding their toddler son. Phoenix gasped when she saw her former Watcher, in turn making Anya look towards her.  
  
Giles looked like the model suburban dad, wearing a plaid, long sleeve shirt and running shoes. He was quite relaxed, tousling Gillian's hair and laughing over something with Olivia. Olivia, whom Phoenix had only met a few times, was quite relaxed in a purple tee shirt and black pants. She set Derek down on the ground, and the child began to toddle around. Derek's complexion was a mixture of his parents, giving him a darkly tanned look, and had Giles' eyes and Olivia's lips. Everyone stood up to greet the three, save Tara, who said her greetings from the couch.  
  
"How's the little guy?" Xander asked, referring to Derek.  
  
"Ah, love's just gotten over a cold, but he's doing just fine," said Olivia as she and Giles sat on the footstool. Derek toddled to the coffee table and began playing with the glass candleholders. As soon as he started banging them together, Giles quickly scooped him up.  
  
"No you don't, you little terror!" Derek began to whine, reaching out for the candleholders. Giles swatted him softly on his hands, and Derek started crying. "Livy," he said, looking at his wife, "I think we better feed the boy. We spent the whole day at the playground, so he'll probably fall asleep soon." Olivia nodded, then removed Derek from Giles and set him back on the ground. Gillian grabbed the boy's hand, and led him upstairs to play. "When's dinner, Anya?"  
  
Anya, who had been watching Phoenix's reactions the entire time, turned towards Giles. "Um, in a few minutes. Sunset's in a bit. Gotta wait for Spike."  
  
Xander sarcastically rolled his eyes. "That guy always has to make an entrance." Anya hit her husband on the hands, then began to talk with Tara, Willow, and Olivia. Xander and Giles in turn started their own conversation.  
  
Phoenix still sat near the fireplace, sadly watching all of her friends in their new lives. They probably don't even see me. . . she thought, until it dawned on her. I'm fucking invisible! A grin spread on her face. She started to remember how much fun she had when she was invisible years ago. Playing pranks on people, eavesdropping, having the most amazing sex with Spike. . . Except for the whole almost turning to Jell-O part, it had been a great time; and because this was simply a curse, she didn't have to worry about a thing. This is gonna be fun.  
  
She stood, then began to walk around the room. Anya saw this, but tried not to look at the girl. Phoenix went behind Xander and began to lightly touch the back of his neck. He felt it, and itched his neck. Laughing, she repeated the action, and again he itched his neck. This went on for a while, until she rested a finger in the middle of the back of his head. Thinking it was a fly, he slapped the back of his head to kill it, but ended up slapping himself so hard his head snapped forward.  
  
"What the hell?" Xander looked behind him and saw nothing.  
  
"What's wrong?" Giles looked slightly shocked.  
  
"I-I. . . nothing." He shook his head and returned to the conversation.  
  
Phoenix was screaming with laughter. She didn't know why, but it was entirely funny.  
  
She ran to Giles, who was leaning forward to talk to Xander. Squatting in front of him, she started making faces, sticking out her tongue and mimicking how he spoke. An impish thought hit her, and she stood up slightly and licked the right lens of his glasses.  
  
Giles sat up straight in shock. His right lens was now covered in saliva, and he didn't know how.  
  
"Xander, I. . . did you see something?" He took his glasses off and set them on the coffee table.  
  
"No, why?"  
  
He shrugged, and reached back for his glasses, but they were gone. Phoenix had picked them up, and carefully placed them on Tara's foot, not wanting to draw attention.  
  
"Where the bloody hell are my glasses?" Giles became angry, and stood up to search for his eyewear. Everyone shrugged.  
  
Anya heard Phoenix giggling next to her, and looked in her direction. She lay on the floor, laughing and pointing at Tara's foot. Anya saw the glasses, and stood up to retrieve them.  
  
"Here they are," she causally stated, shooting a murderous glance at a still giggling Phoenix. Giles looked confused as he cleaned the lenses with his shirt and placed them back on his face.  
  
Phoenix jumped up, then ran behind the couch. Standing right behind Willow, to whom Anya was presently talking, she began to speak.  
  
"Oh, look at me Anya," mimicked the woman, "I'm Willow the teacher. All spiffy and professional. See how intelligently I talk. Profusely, speculation, morose. Blah blah blah, I'm a female Giles. I bore everyone with my fancy talk."  
  
Anya tried to hold back a laugh, and ended up choking.  
  
"Are you ok?" Willow asked, looking at the brunette.  
  
Trying to collect herself, Anya shook her head. *BRING* The doorbell went off.  
  
"I'll get it!" screamed Anya, just as Phoenix ran around the couch to the hallway. "I said I'LL GET IT!" Anya jumped out of the chair, trying to beat the laughing invisible girl.  
  
Making it to the doorway ahead of Anya, Phoenix flung the door open. Her giddiness faded away when she saw who was at the door. Spike.  
  
He looked exactly the same, only slightly different. If that's possible. His dark blue long sleeve shirt was rolled at the sleeves, covering a dark gray shirt. Instead of the slicked back style she was used to, his bleached hair was slightly tosseled. What seemed different was the way he acted, the way he carried himself. It was almost human.  
  
Looking slightly confused, he stared through Phoenix at a breathless Anya, who had just ran up behind the girl.  
  
"Think you got a ghost problem, luv," he said. Phoenix jumped aside and watched him give Anya a hug. The two went into the living room, as Phoenix stood at the door.  
  
The joy she had felt seconds ago was gone, replaced again by that depressed mood. Spike, who stated many times that he would never stop loving her, looked incredibly happy. She saw him get affectionate greetings from people who, years ago despised him. Anya was wrong; they are better off without me.  
  
Because Spike had finally arrived, it was dinnertime. The group made their way into the kitchen to dish up, while Xander went upstairs to get Gillian and Derek.  
  
After a few minutes, everyone was in the dining room eating. It wasn't until then that Anya remembered Phoenix, who had momentarily disappeared. She excused herself, then went to find her.  
  
Phoenix sat in the hallway, curled up in a ball and crying.  
  
"Honey, what's the matter?" Anya knelt down, cupping Phoenix's face in her hands. When she didn't respond, Anya stood up and pulled the girl to her feet. "Come on, its dinner time." Walking to the kitchen, Anya fixed Phoenix a plate of food, and put her in a place where she could see everything but no one would see her.  
  
It was a weird scene, all the happiness and normalcy of a family. Spike sat with the kids, teaching Gillian tricks and disgusting things to do. Olivia and Anya told mothering horror stories to Tara and Willow, while Xander and Giles discussed a recent soccer match. When Xander began to tease Willow, she threw a cucumber slice at his head. All the couples would occasionally show some sort of intimacy towards each other: a small peck or a rub.  
  
For an hour it went on, the talking, the affection, the togetherness, without any sign of tension or anger. Six years ago, this would have been an entirely different scene. Phoenix felt like an outsider, and rightfully so, because it was a world she was not part of.  
  
Dinner ended, the table was cleared and the children put to bed. They were always put to sleep after the dinner, because what happened next wasn't for their ears.  
  
After dinner was the Scooby meeting. 


	7. Out of Hiding

Disclaimer: "He just drank a cup of acid! What the fuck do you expect me to do?" "I don't know, just keep him from doing anything stupid." It's easier said than done. I put the receiver down and head out to the backyard. When I made the call, he and a few others were walking in that direction, and hopefully, he's still there now. And, when I get near the pool, I find he is. "I'm a Golden God!" He's on the roof, right above the pool, so incredibly high it's not funny. "Hey Joss! Get down from there!" If he jumps, I'm in big shit. He sees me, then points at me. "And I want you to tell Entertainment Magazine that the last thing I said. . . was. . . 'I'm on drugs!'" A cheer erupts from the audience. "Don't you want to say something a little more eloquent?" I ask, hoping to speak to the still sober part of him. "Oh! Ok! Tell them that. . . 'I, Joss Whedon, dig Buffy the Vampire Slayer, my most precious creation'. . . and. . . 'I'm on drugs!'" Holy shit, this is going to be one hell of a night.  
  
Rating: R- No sex today, just some casual swearing. It'll come, it'll come.  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: The stuff just keeps pouring out. I wrote this chapter earlier today because I had a late start at school, and so I could publish after school around 5 PM my time and give you guys on the east coast a treat. I usually update it around 10 PM my time, because that's when I allow myself to go on the computer. It's psychotic, I know. Anyway, I have to tell the fans of this story that I am loving the reviews. I check my email, see that I've got some new messages, then silently scream in my room as I read your words of love. I send you all kisses. Just to clarify, Spike has a shiny new soul. I explained that in chapter four, but I probably wasn't to clear. The only difference is, he didn't go through that moral crap because he asked for the soul and because he is my most favoritist character and he's super hot. Tee hee hee, I'm such a girl. So, I love you all, and Buddy Christ gives you all a thumbs up.  
  
PS: That little scene in my disclaimer was stolen from the super movie, Almost Famous.  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven- Out of Hiding  
  
Slouching deeper in the sofa, Anya rolled her eyes and let out a sigh. The meeting had started an hour and a half ago, and the end was no where in sight. She knew the information was important, possible apocalypse and such, but the way Giles kept rambling on and on just made her want to gouge her eyes out with ice picks.  
  
Xander sat next to her, alert and absorbing all the information, as was everyone else in the room. Well, they like all this boring shit. I mean, they've been doing it for years, save Tara and Spike, but they get off on this crap.  
  
In the corner of her eye, she saw Phoenix leaning against the living room doorframe. She too listened with intensity. Taking a quick glance at Anya, she faintly smiled.  
  
Her crying had ended right after dinner, thank God. While everyone made his or her way to the living room for the meeting, Anya stayed behind in the kitchen, comforting Phoenix. She hadn't realized seeing everyone would make her so emotional. When she stopped sobbing, they both went to the meeting, Phoenix staying by the door, as if not to be part of the group.  
  
Anya turned her attention back to Giles, who was prattling on and on about the recent demon population.  
  
". . . Xander, you killed a total of six vampires this week. Willow, Anya, and I each got one. And Spike. . ." he paused, looking down at his clipboard, "Um, how many was it again."  
  
"Fifteen." He sat up, a look of pride on his face. When he started to beam at Xander, he responded with his middle finger.  
  
Giles, trying desperately to end the male competition, cleared his throat. "Yes, fifteen. That makes it a total of twenty-four vampires for the week ending yesterday, a twenty percent decrease from the same week last year."  
  
"Um, are there any other demon changes?" Tara asked, her swelled feet propped up on the coffee table.  
  
Flipping through his notes, Giles came on the information. "Yes, there has also been a decrease in demon activity. Except for an increase in Flueruin demon sightings, it would appear that the demons are, in fact, leaving the area."  
  
Xander sat up. "Isn't that a good thing? I mean, yea, evil leaving. Party time."  
  
Giles sighed, then took off his glasses. "No, it's not. For the past three years, there's been a constant demon population. Then, five months ago, they've all but disappeared. There are a few remaining, but the rest of them are gone. And then we have to deal with Tara's premonitions."  
  
Seeing Phoenix make a confused face, Anya tried to get it clarified for her invisible friend. "What premonitions?"  
  
Xander patted his wife on the knee. "Honey, we've talked about this thousands of times."  
  
"But I don't remember."  
  
Giles started to wipe his glasses on the hem of his shirt. "Due to Tara's pregnancy and inherited magickal abilities, she's grown a sixth sense; a connection with the mystical world."  
  
Tara nodded. "Yeah, I get these feelings from the earth that something isn't right. Like, there's this unsteadiness to the balance of life."  
  
"Well, if there was something going on in the demon world, I should know," Spike said to the brunette, "You know, me being evil and all. But, I've felt nothing. It's got to be something else."  
  
After putting his glasses back on, Giles flopped down in the chair next to his wife. "But what?"  
  
Everyone stood in silence for a few minutes.  
  
Breaking the stillness, Xander said aloud what they all wished.  
  
"If only Buffy were here. . ."  
  
There was a common agreement with the crowd. Anya quickly glanced at the girl. See, we do need you.  
  
"Get any news from that private eye guy, Wills?" Xander asked.  
  
She shook her head. "I got a call from him a week ago. He said that he found a trail leading to Chicago, but he hasn't gotten in touch yet. I don't know if he found her or not."  
  
Olivia, having been quiet for a while, spoke up. "I think it's necessary that you come up with a plan in case you cannot find Buffy. You're depending on a girl who does not want to be found, and as you told me before, she knows how to hide. I don't wish to be a pessimist, but I do wish to be reasonable."  
  
"Unfortunately, I have to agree with Olivia," Tara said, looking down at her stomach, "We have to decide what to do if we don't find Buffy." The group stood in a hush, not wanting to think of that possibility.  
  
"I know what to do!"  
  
Turning to face the hallway, the Scoobies and Phoenix saw little Gillian in her Piglet pajamas, listening intently. How long she had been standing there, no one knew.  
  
Anya got up from her seat and approached her daughter, trying hard so neither of them would bump into the invisible girl. "Jilly, you're supposed to be sound asleep."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Duh, I know that. I couldn't sleep." She entered the living room and hopped into Spike's lap. "Bored, Uncle Billy?"  
  
"Nope, Jilly-Bean," he began to pat her head, "Watcher-boy's not that dull."  
  
"Come on Jilly, bed time." Anya walked over to the girl and reached to pick her up.  
  
"No no NO Mommy, I have a great idea on what to do!"  
  
Pulling her arms away and folding them across her chest, Anya frowned. "You have five minutes."  
  
The girl sat up, a serious look on her face. "I think you should get help from Phoenix."  
  
Phoenix and Anya bit their lips simultaneously, while the rest of the gang sat forward in interest.  
  
"Who?" asked Giles.  
  
Again, the little girl rolled her eyes. "Mommy's friend who came over today for tea. She said they were old friends. She was really sad, but her aura told me that she was really powerful and could help. So, I think you should let Phoenix help you."  
  
All eyes now rested on Anya, who began to defensively walk backwards.  
  
"Old friend? Anya, are you getting help from the demon dimensions?" Xander questioned, his tone both shocked and angry.  
  
Shaking her head, the ex-vengeance demon began to get nervous. "I. . . I-I, you see. . . this girl. . . w-well she, I mean. . ."  
  
Giles stood up, his expression matching Xander's. "Do you know how dangerous that is? We don't have the slightest idea what's going on. They may very well be behind whatever is going on. Not to mention that creating an alliance with them is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."  
  
"I'm gonna have to agree with the Watcher and Whelp here. That's so fucking dumb," Spike looked almost horrified.  
  
"No, you see. . . I d-didn't. . ."  
  
"Think!" Willow stood up, obviously angry. "You weren't thinking! You have a husband, children, friends to look after, and asking the demons for help puts us all in danger." Her anger began to grow as she looked down at her pregnant partner. "If something happens to Tara or our baby, I'm going to hold YOU personally responsible!"  
  
"Oh, God. . . I would never want t-that to happen. . ."  
  
"Anya."  
  
A small voice came from behind, one she could only hear.  
  
Phoenix.  
  
"Take the spell off. They need to know what's going on."  
  
Anya spoke to Phoenix, which, to everyone else, looked like she was talking to the wall. "Are you sure you want them to know?"  
  
"Anya?" Xander looked at his wife carefully. "Who ya talking to?"  
  
Phoenix shook her head. "It doesn't matter. If this really is a big problem, I need to be here to do my job."  
  
"What the bloody hell is going on?" Spike stood up, holding Gillian in his arms.  
  
She turned to them, a joyful look on her face. "I've found a solution." She reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a handful of spices she had secretly pocketed after doing the spell earlier. "O Hecate, I thank you for your gift, and now I ask you to return your daughter to her original form." Throwing the spices in the air, she began to chant in her demon language.  
  
Slowly, before all, Phoenix began to materialize.  
  
Anya looked back at everyone. "Buffy's back."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
The silence is deafening. Phoenix had heard that phrase used before in a movie, but never understood what it meant. Now, standing in front of her old friends for the first time in six years, and them actually able to see her, she understood.  
  
Not one person moved. They all stared, as if they didn't believe it was her.  
  
"Buffy?" Tears began to form in Willow's eyes at the sight of her friend.  
  
"Buffster?" Xander's face was pale, as if he'd seen a ghost.  
  
"Oh my God. . ." Giles looked at the girl, on the verge of crying.  
  
She shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "Hey."  
  
Willow began to move towards her, but stopped after a few feet. This can't be Buffy. She began to examine the girl claiming to be her best friend.  
  
Her beautiful blonde hair had been destroyed, now a completely unnatural auburn color. In places, she saw streaks of some different tones, blue and blonde-white. On her left nostril, a small silver stud glinted in the light, as did the ring on her bottom left lip. She wore a tight, black leather corset that ended six inches from her pierced navel. Due to her lack of sleeves, Willow could see various tattooed bands, all sorts of designs and patterns. Her black jeans were very tight and worn, sagging low to her waist, silver chains hanging off the belt hooks.  
  
"You look. . . great," Willow tried as hard as she could to be sincere.  
  
"Buffy!" Giles raced over to hug her, but she backed away when he got close.  
  
"First off," she began, her face hard and unforgiving, "Don't call me Buffy. She's gone. I'm Phoenix. If you don't like my name, get over it. Now, I'm here to help you with whatever's going on. You'll give me the information, and I'll kill it. After we're done, I'm leaving. No one will mention me staying, or follow me when I leave."  
  
Spike, who had been standing in shock for the exchanges, put Gillian on the ground and walked to the door, never looking at Phoenix. In a second, he was gone, slamming the door hard.  
  
Tara had a small tear dropping down the side of her face. "When did you get back?"  
  
Phoenix turned to Anya. "Today. Two days ago, the private eye guy you hired found me. He kinda talked me into coming, saying he'd let me get a hold of you. I ended up coming here first, and Anya let me in. She'll explain the rest to you." Phoenix turned on her heals, and went to the hallway to retrieve her coat. "I'm going to find a motel to stay at. I'll see you in the morning." She opened the door and left.  
  
All eyes came back on Anya, wanting the information.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Phoenix made her way to her rental car, emotionally drained and exhausted. What did I expect, a warm 'How the hell are you' welcome?  
  
As she opened her car door, something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.  
  
Spike sat on the sidewalk, directly under the street lamp. He wasn't crying; just sitting there in a daze.  
  
Sighing, she shut the door and walked over to him.  
  
"How are you?" she asked uncomfortably.  
  
"You left." He wasn't talking at her, just staring ahead.  
  
"Yeah, I did."  
  
He jumped to his feet, the fluorescent lights bouncing off his enraged features.  
  
"Don't try to pretend to be Buffy while you're here. You're not Buffy!" He whipped around and began to walk away, leaving her alone in the light.  
  
When he was a few feet away, he stopped and turned around. "Buffy Summers wouldn't have left," he whispered, Phoenix barely hearing him. He slowly moved into the darkness..  
  
For a moment, she stood there, not sure what to do. Then, the tears began to come. Sitting in the same spot she'd found Spike, Phoenix cried long and hard. 


	8. Past, Present, And Future

Disclaimer: Tears stream down my face as I look into his eyes. He takes my cheek in his hand and brings my face closer. Our shared kiss lasts for only a minute, but the fire and passion in it would remain with us forever. "Please don't let me go." I whimper, burring my face in his neck. Lifting my chin with his finger, he smiles sadly. "You have to." I begin to weep harder, and he pulls me, simultaneously hugging and rocking me. "The only way you can continue to write Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan fiction is to go with him, the creator. I know you don't love him, but Joss Whedon will give you the life you deserve. One I can never give you." The plane engine starts up, and he releases me, but not before kissing me sweetly on the forehead. "I love you, more than the stars, more than the moon, more than Heaven." I shake my head, brushing the tears away. "When I'm away from you, the stars fall from the sky, the moon turns black, and Heaven becomes a miserable purgatory," I choke out. Chuckling, he brushes away my tears. "When we die, we will finally be together." One last kiss and I must leave.  
  
Rating: R- No sex for you, but for me. . . no, I don't get any either.  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: I took the advice of many of you, and skipped school to write this chapter. Oh, ok, I didn't, but we can just pretend. I've had a bad couple of days, so this chapter may or may not reflect my mood. Many people have told me that this story is sad, and I'm sorry to say this is going to be sad all the way through, but with a super happy ending. Why? I am a sucker for happy endings! And I also hope that you stick through all my angsty crap and shit, because I'm moody, bitchy, broody, seventeen-year- old who loves to bring people down. But, I do detect better days on the horizon, so some good days will come. I won't be updating soon, but I will have the next chapter up, by the latest, Wednesday. Please stay with it, it gives me such joy that people read and enjoy my shit. Love you all forever!  
  
PS: That depressingly disclaimer was poorly ripped off from Casablanca (never seen it) and Romeo and Juliet. Gentlemen upstage, Ladies downstage.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight- Past, Present, and Future  
  
The whisky burned his throat as he took his second shot from the third bottle. God, I've turned into such a pussy. Can't even stand the cheap stuff anymore. After coughing and sputtering a few more minutes, he poured another shot.  
  
Spike sat on the floor of his crypt, pulled up to the coffee table littered with various bottles of alcohol. Don't know where they came from, just kinda appeared. After the confrontation with Buffy, or Phoenix, or whatever that bloody bitch is calling herself, he walked around Sunnydale in confusion, until he found himself piss-dead drunk at home.  
  
Eyeing the shot glass, mesmerized by the way the amber liquid moved, he took a deep breath and gulped it down. This one did him in, and he leaned over to the side and puked. It was a beautiful puddle, a mixture of the blood from lunch, Anya's fabulous spaghetti, and three bottles of Jack Daniel's.  
  
Shit. He managed to stand up, and went in search of something to clean up the vomit. Last Saturday's comic page served the purpose, spread across the floor to soak up the small lake of barf.  
  
Jesus H. Christ! I haven't had to heave since that party in 1974. When was the last time I got drunk? Trying hard to determine the exact date, Spike calculated it out. Five years. I haven't had a bloody drink in five years! No wonder I've turned into the Whelp when he's smashed. Spike smiled at that memory. The day Buffy called to say she wasn't coming back, he and Xander spent the day in her basement getting plastered. By about the second bottle, Xander was over the toilet.  
  
As floor started to sway from beneath him, Spike slowly made his way to the couch to lie down.  
  
The ceiling started to swirl, making little whirlpools above him. Buffy. God, Buffy. She's back.  
  
He shook his head. No she's not. The girl is just some trashed-out bint who resembles the woman I gave my un-beating heart to.  
  
If it weren't for this damned soul, I'd probably be able to forget about her. But, oh no, I had to go find one so the bitch would forgive me. Now, I have to love her no matter what she is.  
  
Spike winced. He really did not regret getting his soul back. And because he asked for it, the pain wasn't as bad as it had been for Angel. Occasionally, he'd get the dreams of the people he had killed in the past, but that was about it. Besides, Buffy had forgiven him.  
  
Oh well, doesn't fucking matter now! Buffy's gone forever and I didn't get my chance. Feeling a bit better, Spike got up from the couch and grabbed his half-full bottle of alcohol. In one swift move, he downed the entire contents. It struck him like a wrecking ball, and the last thing he could remember was falling onto the floor.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Wincing at the morning sun coming through the partially closed windows in her motel room, Phoenix got up and closed the curtains. She glanced at the clock. 10:53.  
  
Sighing, she got out of bed. The Magic Box opened almost three hours ago, and they were all probably waiting for her to show up. In the bathroom, she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. While drying off, she picked out her clothes. After seeing everyone's reaction to yesterday's outfit, she chose something a little more conservative: a black halter-top and a pair of baggy khakis. Slowly, she took her nose ring out, as it might weird her friends out, and put on light brown eyeshadow as opposed to yesterday's bright green. Fixing her hair just the way she liked it, Phoenix grabbed her purse and went to her car.  
  
Ten minutes later, she stood at the front door of the Magic Box, unsure of what to do. Would she just go in and pretend like last night hadn't happened, or would she simply be business-like, here to do the job and nothing else. Gathering her courage, she pushed open the door.  
  
One word summarized her immediate reaction: Amazing. This wasn't the quaint little Magic Box she used to hang out in years ago. When Anya told her that they had expanded, she wasn't kidding.  
  
To her left was a massive library, bookshelves filled with all sorts of spell books, demonic history volumes, incantation manuals and so on, all perfectly organized and categorized. The wall opposite of her was chock full of talismans, amulets, pentagrams, and other magickal items that would make any spell-caster's mouth water. In the middle of the building were computers and reading tables, to examine your items or check things out on the demon or magic index. Up above, the loft held a variety of candles, incense, vials containing roots and herbs, skulls, demon body parts, tubes of various blood types, and even a possessed hand. The cash register, expensive items, and glass display boxes holding the more precious objects were to the right. And although it was huge, the atmosphere remained warm and cozy.  
  
As Phoenix entered the shop, everyone turned to look at her. Anya was at the cash register, ordering more Catrouver eyes. Giles, obviously, was at the bookshelves organizing the section on fairies and woodland spirits. Tara, looking quite exhausted, was working on the computer. Customers roamed the shop.  
  
"Hey Phoenix!" Tara slowly got up from the computer and waddled over to the girl. The two stood in front of each other, unsure of what to do. Before Phoenix could say anything, Tara gave her a big hug. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered into her ear.  
  
Despite herself, Phoenix smiled.  
  
"You doing ok?" she asked.  
  
Tara shook her head. "I had horrible indigestion, had to go to the bathroom five times last night, and then the smell of Willow's coffee made me all nauseated, so yeah, I'm ok." Laughter ensued.  
  
As the two began walking into the store, Giles came up from the left, a little bit uncomfortable.  
  
"How was your night Bu-Phoenix?"  
  
The tension returned. "Fine," she said rather darkly. "I'm gonna go poke around," she explained to Tara before leaving the group.  
  
"What happened?" Giles was confused, unsure of what he did to anger his former Slayer.  
  
Staring at Phoenix, who was currently examining the Tibbar orb, Tara spoke in a whisper. "I think that name means something bad to her. She's not here."  
  
Just then, Olivia came out of the back room with Derek, Gillian, and Ryan. The quartet walked over to Phoenix and began to chat. Suddenly, Gillian pulled the multi-colored hair girl down and whispered something in her ear. Phoenix responded by picking up the girl and swinging her about.  
  
Smiling at the scene, Tara looked at Giles. "She's not here, but she isn't that far away."  
  
Her attitude having improved, Phoenix returned to the two. "So, tell me what it is that I have to kill."  
  
"Honestly," Giles exchanged a look with Tara, "We don't know."  
  
"So you went in search of me so I could kill something, and you don't know what it is?"  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Giles walked past the girl and beckoned her to follow. Near the cash register was a door marked SCOOBIES ONLY. He opened the door. Inside was a room containing several couches and chairs, a large conference table, a high-tech computer, an oak shelf filled with books, and paper and files littering the floor.  
  
Giles pulled a chair up to the table and plopped a huge file on the table. "We don't know what's going on, but we have a vague idea what could happen." Shuffling through the papers, he pulled some newspaper clippings out. "People have started disappearing then re-appearing, some babies have been born with green skin, buildings spontaneously combust, cars run through the streets without drivers, and so on."  
  
She shrugged. "Normal Hellmouth stuff."  
  
He leaned back in his chair, pulled off his glasses, and began to pinch the bridge of his nose. "All these things happened within one week."  
  
If it really could happen, her eyes would have popped out of her head.  
  
Replacing the glasses on his face, Giles started to put the contents back in the file. "We think these occurrences have something to do with the energy of the Hellmouth being altered, as if someone, or something, is changing its field."  
  
"Are they going to try to open it?" she asked, while she silently prayed. Please God, No.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
They sat in silence for a while.  
  
Slamming her fist on the table, Phoenix spoke up. "Well, let's get on it. Feel like a little training, old guy?" she mocked.  
  
Laughing, Giles stood up. "It's been quite a long time. I think even I could kick you ass."  
  
"We'll see."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
"Darkness is life, an energy that seeps through the body, a dark ink that consumes everything in its path.  
  
It is my world, my home.  
  
Their destiny.  
  
In a while, we will have completed phase one of the transformation. I will be at full strength, able to destroy anyone who dares challenge me.  
  
It has been brought to my attention that a group who fights the forces of evil may try to stop our plight, but their attempts will only bring their deaths. It is also possible that they may call on the Slayer, who was once their ally. No need to worry, for if they are able to contact the girl, I know how to destroy her.  
  
The deaths of the mortals will be swift, her's will be long." 


	9. Dead Skin on Trial

Disclaimer: "So, you believe in God because of Alice in Wonderland?" The nun is obviously confused. The poor bitch just wanted some spare change for the orphans of Afghanistan. "No, it's because of the poem 'The Walrus and the Carpenter'. The walrus, in his girth, represents the eastern religions, Buddha and such. Now the carpenter represents Joss Whedon, crafter and owner of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, savior to all those who watch TV," I start to get excited, as she is obviously drawn in, "Now, at the end of the poem, they proceed to shuck and devour their followers. To me, that's an indictment of organized religion." She looks down at her habit, feeling ashamed. "Now what you need to do is go find some man, some woman, to make you happy, because that's all life is." A light shines in her face and without a word, she stands up and skips away. My partner in crime walks over and sits down next to me. "What the fuck was that?" Anyanka Faith looks at me disapprovingly. "Ah, you know me, I just love to fuck with the clergy," I state, grinning.  
  
Rating: R- Ah, mocker! "R" is for the . . . no, I know it begins with some other letter.  
  
Summary: After a horrifying incident, Buffy leaves Sunnydale, vowing never to return. Well, we all know she can't stay away forever.  
  
Author's Notes: God, I am so incredibly sorry I haven't updated sooner! Life is just crazy. I have hours of rehearsal, homework, make-up tests, and such. Not to mention Halloween . . . Also, I had an immense writer's block, and I just couldn't get the chapter the way I wanted it. Oh, but God shone his fucking light down this morning, and I got my inspiration. Either that or I've eaten way too much sugar and I just think it's good. I will probably update sometime next week, but I have night rehearsals and opening night (Romeo and Juliet- that crap in "Rating" is one of my lines), so if I do, it will be a miracle. After next week, I'm free and can write and/or finish this story. This chapter is pretty much a depress-fest, but I made it extra long to make up for the lateness, and there is some minor Spuffy because I'm very lame. I still enjoy the reviews, and hope all y'all love it. Hugs and kisses to all, except to the unloved son ;)  
  
PS: That little review was from the butthole-tight movie "Dogma". The real version of that speech is so incredibly intelligent, but I hope I don't offend anyone with my super-Atheist views. Actually, I don't fucking care. And the title of this story is from Green Day's "Time of Your Life".  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine- Dead Skin on Trial  
  
Phoenix held her head high as she skipped through the crisp November air. It was after midnight, and the full moon was just beginning to peak out from behind the trees. As she moved, the world seemed to come alive. The whisper of the trees as the wind blew through their branches, the smell of the cold, made her feel ten years younger. God, even the sight of a vampire running through the cemetery. . .  
  
Vampire!  
  
Oh yeah, that's right! I didn't have a normal childhood! I got to kill monsters when I was younger.  
  
Pulling a stake from her coat pocket, she began to chase after the vampire. In no time, she caught up with him. It wasn't a fair fight, he was obviously a newbie, and in a few seconds he was nothing but a pile of dust.  
  
Hmmm, not bad, considering I haven't dusted a vamp in years.  
  
A sense of comfort came over her as she pocketed the stake. It felt so familiar, running through the graveyards at night, killing its inhabitants. So had the training earlier that day.  
  
During the first half-hour, Giles had the upper hand, continually defeating her in their sparring matches. Then, a switch inside her head turned on, and all the skills she had put away came out. Giles was quite surprised that she would remember so quickly, and by the moves she had picked up while working as the unofficial bouncer at Uranium. While sparring, they talked. Nothing much, just about his life as a father and remembering the good ol' days.  
  
And here she was, reliving those "good ol' days". When the training had concluded, he suggested she go patrolling, just to awaken those instincts. That's why it felt so familiar, and why she suddenly became uneasy.  
  
This comfort was a good feeling, and if she stayed long enough, she might not want to forget those feelings.  
  
Shaking off those thoughts, Phoenix resumed patrolling. Then, it attacked.  
  
A gigantic vampire, 250 pounds of pure muscle, jumped in front of her and backhanded her across the cemetery. She landed twenty feet away, smacking her head against a crypt wall. As she rose, rubbing the back of her head, the anger started to boil.  
  
"I'm SO going to kick you ass for that, Sasquach!"  
  
He laughed at her. "Are those the last words of the great Slayer?"  
  
Putting her hands on her hips, she snarled at him. "First off, I'm not a Slayer anymore. Second off, thousands of demons have tried to kill me and failed, so why do you think YOU'RE gonna do it after all these years. Thirdly, get some deodorant, because you smell like fuck!"  
  
Sasquach growled, lunging at the girl. She dodged the vamp, and then roundhouse kicked him in the knees. As he fell to the ground, she ran to the front and punched him repeatedly in the face. Then, in a move she learned from Terry, jabbed her fingers up his nostrils and pulled up.  
  
Walking around so she faced his back, fingers still up his nose, she whispered into his ear. "Told ya so."  
  
Before she could do anything else, the vamp disappeared in a cloud of dust. Phoenix fell to the ground. She looked up, and found herself facing an extremely drunk . . .  
  
"Spike."  
  
He looked down on her; a stake in one hand, a bottle of Jack Daniel's in the other. He grinned, raising a scarred eyebrow at her.  
  
"Hey luv."  
  
Phoenix quickly got up and came face to face with her ex. "Why the fuck did you do that?"  
  
Shrugging, he took a swig from his bottle. "Thoug you migh need 'elp. 'S muh job, afferall." As the words slurred from his mouth, Phoenix gagged from the smell of him.  
  
"Go home!"  
  
Turning, he started to walk away from her. "You not my mum, so bugger off bint!" In a display of grace, he tripped over a tombstone and landed on his stomach. "Fugginhell!"  
  
She walked over and tried to help him up. Then, he passed out, crumpling up like a rag doll in her arms. "Spike, get up!" She shook him, speaking loudly in his ear. "Spike, get UP!" She rolled him onto his back, then slapped him on the face to wake him. "Come on, you stupid lush!" He wouldn't respond. "FINE!" She stood, pulling him up with her, then began to drag him to his crypt.  
  
Great, just how I wanted to spend the night! Playing nursemaid to a lushified vampire. Life just doesn't get any better.  
  
Five minutes later, they arrived at his crypt. Kicking the door open, Phoenix dragged him through his home, then to his bed down in the pit. Pulling off his boots, she dropped him into bed and covered him.  
  
Exhausted, she began to tour around his crypt. In the past six years, it had changed significantly.  
  
He now had a new set of furniture, two black leather armchairs and a matching sofa. The coffee table, covered in a mountain of liquor bottles, was a beautiful cherry oak chest. Across from this area was the "kitchen", a large refrigerator and microwave, all in black. Even his bedroom, long ago a blown-up hole in the ground, now held a king-sized bed with red sheets, a large dresser, and a small library holding various books.  
  
Even Spike, the 120-year-old former Big Bad, had become domesticated.  
  
Phoenix was unsure of what to do. Spike was pretty bad when he got drunk, and judging from the pile of bottles in the living room, he had had quite a lot to drink. So, she decided to stay in case he needed some help.  
  
She walked over to his fridge, quite hungry. Opening it, she found several Tupperware containers from Anya, a few pizza boxes, and various beverages. His freezer contained a variety of frozen dinners, and obviously, blood. Selecting a dinner of lasagna, she microwaved it. Pulling it out a few minutes later, she sat down on the sofa and turned the television on. It was a re-run of Saturday Night Live.  
  
Slowly, she began to feel sleepy. A few minutes into Weekend Update, she stretched out onto the sofa, and fell asleep.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
A thousand jackhammers drilled into his skull. Waking up to a hangover was not something that Spike enjoyed doing. He delicately held the sides of his head, as if it were made of glass.  
  
Lovely! Bloody lovely! Now I get to stagger home before the sun comes up and bakes me to a golden crisp. He looked at his watch to see how quickly he would have to get home. So, it's . . . 10:30? What the fuck? It was late in the morning, and he was outside, obviously not a big burning pile of dust. What the hell is going on?  
  
It was then that Spike began to realize where he was. He wasn't outside; he was in his bed.  
  
Spike quickly sat up, ignoring the pain in his head. How did I . . .? The last thing he remembered was going out for some more booze and patrol. But after that . . .  
  
Maybe I just got bored, went home, took my shoes off and fell into bed, and I just don't remember that?  
  
He sniffed his clothes, and cringed. Slowly getting out of bed, he walked over to his dresser and pulled out a black T-shirt and jeans. His stomach began to growl, so he complied and went upstairs to eat.  
  
While sifting through the contents for his fridge, he heard a noise behind him. The TV was on, and some female comedienne was complaining about her boyfriend's penis. Maybe before I fell asleep, I watched a bit of TV? Christ, I don't fucking remember.  
  
Walking over, Spike turned off the TV. When he turned around, he saw Buffy, no Phoenix, curled in a ball on the sofa.  
  
Somehow, everything came back to him. He had been walking through the cemetery, then saw her fighting a vamp. He dusted it, then passed out. She must have taken him home, then stayed to make sure he was ok.  
  
Not wanting to deal with her, Spike walked over. "Get up now!" he said blandly into her ear.  
  
The girl opened her eyes, then tried to remember what was going on. She looked over at him, and a look of concern crossed her face. "How are you?"  
  
"Bloody perfect. Now, could you please leave?" He walked over to the door, opening it.  
  
She walked up to him, looking in his eyes. "You were pretty bad last night. I mean, I've never seen anyone that drunk . . ."  
  
"Look," he interrupted, "I'm fine. Don't need your sympathy. All I need is a bag of blood and a re-run of Jeopardy, an' I'll be fine."  
  
Hurt, she pulled away, then went to the couch to retrieve her coat. "I'm sorry, I-I just thought you needed some help."  
  
Slamming the door, Spike followed her. "I don't need your help either! I've been doing pretty fine on my own!"  
  
Phoenix spun around, and stood so she was right in front of him. "From what I saw last night, it looked like you were doing pretty shitty."  
  
As she got angry, Spike could see traces of the old Buffy in her face. The girl he had fallen for, the one woman he vowed to love no matter what, the one who had come so close to loving him.  
  
"I-I've had a bad couple'a days, alright. So I dealt with it poorly," his voice faltered as he looked into her eyes.  
  
The anger melted away to the look of concern. "Why?"  
  
He laughed, right in her face, then walked over to the fridge, still hungry. "Why do you think?"  
  
She tried to figure out, and then it slowly came to her. "I came back," she said, a look of disgust on her face.  
  
He has his back to her, not wanting her to see him break down. "What you did -leaving, it tore me apart. Not just me- Red, Whelp, Demon-girl, Glinda, Watcher. Now, you waltz back in, expecting us to be fine with the fact you're gonna leave again. Well, I'm sorry if I'm not ok with this. It took me too long to be ok with it the first time."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
2003- four days after Dawn's death  
  
The group silently filed through the door, not speaking to one another. The funeral had been hell, two hours of misery. Only high point Spike could find was the fact it was pouring down rain, so her could attend it with everyone and pay his final respects to his Bit.  
  
Xander brought up the rear, closing the door slowly. As everyone went to the living room, Buffy walked upstairs to her bedroom, then locked the door.  
  
They shed their soaked raincoats and sat, not wanting to speak.  
  
Tara clutched Willow's hand, her face streaked with thousands of tears. She sniffed, then looked at Giles. "I-is Buffy g-going to be alright?" Her voice faltered, and she started to weep again. Anya and Willow soon joined her, as did Giles and Xander.  
  
Spike, not wanting them to see, went to the kitchen to fix up a mug of blood. As it sat in the microwave warming up, he felt the tears fall down his cheeks.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
Three days later  
  
Spike woke up as the front door opened. He had fallen asleep in the living room with Giles and Anya watching a documentary on African hyenas.  
  
It was Xander, carrying a box of doughnuts and a few cups of coffee. Setting them down on the coffee table, he pulled out a package from under his arm and handed it to Spike. Opening it up, Spike discovered it filled with bags of blood.  
  
"Thanks, Whelp." He said, looking up.  
  
Xander shrugged, then went to the couch where Anya slept. He carefully pulled her up, sat down, then let her head rest in his lap. She frowned for a second, then snuggled deeper in.  
  
Willow and Tara came down moments later. The group sat around in the living room, munching on the food and watching a re-decorating program.  
  
Hours passed by slowly.  
  
Cuddled up against Willow, Tara heard the clock in the hallway chime 11 o'clock. "Is someone going to get Buffy," she asked, to no one in particular.  
  
Giles sat up, leaning back in an armchair. "I guess someone should. She hasn't been out of her room since yesterday morning."  
  
"Do we really want to bother her?" Xander was massaging Anya's neck. "I mean, shouldn't we let her be by herself?"  
  
Shaking his head, Giles reached for a jelly doughnut. "The longer she stays like this, the harder it will be to get her out of it."  
  
Letting go of her partner, Willow stood up. "I'll go."  
  
"Me too." Spike set his cup of blood down, and followed the redhead up the stairs.  
  
At her bedroom door, Willow knocked softly. "Buffy? Are you up? It's me, Willow. Spike's here with me. Would you let us in please." There was no answer.  
  
Spike nudged her. "Maybe she's in there," he suggested, pointing at the bathroom.  
  
Willow walked over, and knocked on the door. No answer. She opened the door to find it empty.  
  
She went back to Spike, knocking again. "Come on Buffy, let us in!" She began to pound on the door. "I don't like this," she said, whispering in his ear, "She hasn't been this bad since Angel . . ."  
  
A look of panic crossed her face as she spoke.  
  
"Since Angel what?" Spike asked, quite confused.  
  
Willow turned back to the door, pounding and screaming simultaneously. "BUFFY! BUFFY!" She tried to open it, finding the door locked. "OH GOD, SPIKE!" Pointing frantically at the door, she indicated to him to break down the door. With a swift kick, the door swung open. Willow screamed.  
  
The room was a mess, drawers pulled out, and clothing scattered across the room. It was as if her room had been raped of anything precious to her. All her pictures, jewelry, Mr. Gordo, were missing.  
  
Spinning on her heels, Willow ran down the stairs. "GILES! GILES! SHE'S GONE!"  
  
Spike remained in her bedroom, completely in shock.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
  
  
One week later  
  
Tara broke down as Giles replayed the message. Anya clutched onto Xander, both of them staring at the machine. Willow, after hearing it the first time, ran to the bathroom vomiting.  
  
It was odd. Giles had stopped by his apartment to retrieve some clothing, but came back in tears with his answering machine. Buffy had called  
  
"I'm sorry I bailed out on all of you, but I needed some time to think. And I've done that . . ."  
  
Spike heard the words, but remained numb. If he didn't think about it, it wouldn't hurt as much.  
  
"I'm not coming back . . . Don't try to find me . . ."  
  
Giles insisted that they all be together when they heard the message, as it contained a message for each of them.  
  
"And, if you can find him, tell Spike that I love him . . ."  
  
She loved him, and yet again, he couldn't help her.  
  
"I love all of you more than I can explain, and hope you have a wonderful future without pain . . ."  
  
How can we have a wonderful future if she's gone? Spike put his head down as he started to cry.  
  
"Goodbye . . . forever."  
  
Spike put his head up, his tears now hot and full of anger. "Whoever wants to get fucking sloshed with me, come downstairs!"  
  
As he got up, Xander grabbed a bottle of vodka behind the couch, then followed the bleached vampire down to the basement.  
  
Vodka makes all the pain go away . . .  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Phoenix stood in shock as Spike weepingly told the story. He had given up on finding food, and now sat on the couch, crying hard.  
  
He finished, looking up at the girl, expecting a reaction. She was still in the same spot, staring blankly ahead.  
  
With the back of his hand, he brushed away the tears. "Now that you know, I want you to leave me alone."  
  
He turned to get up, then heard a thump. Spinning quickly around, he saw Phoenix lying on the ground, in a huddled mass, sobbing hard.  
  
"I . . . I-I . . . only w-w-wanted you g-guys to b-be h-h-hap . . ."  
  
Spike ran to her, sitting down and gathering her in his arms. "We couldn't be happy." He rubbed his face into her hair, tears starting to fall again. "You weren't with us," he whispered.  
  
"I'm s-so sorry Spike," she cried freely.  
  
He stroked her head. "But you're back now." 


	10. Peace Never Lasts

Disclaimer: November 10, 2002- 8st 12, cigarettes 35 (v.p.), alcohol units 7, phone calls to answering machine 2 (v.g.). Today was positively horrible. Due to late night excursion with Shazzer, Jude, and Tom, spent morning with head in toilet. I will never ever drink again! Got in late to office. Perpetua created a storm because someone had misplaced the Johnson advertisement (oops). Slipped away for a fag, then headed back to computer. Spent ninety minutes arguing with Joss over who the most intelligent character on EastEnders is. Smug bastard. Thinks he knows everything because he created Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Oh, Daniel just walked across the room. Lovely ass. Very lovely.  
  
Rating: R (I love sex, I love violence, I like drugs and swearing!)  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: New summary! Yeah, I thought the old one didn't fit where the story was. Hope there is no confusion. How are all y'all? I'm perfect! The play is over, and I am free to write and finish this story. Loved all the reviews I got from the last chapter. Sorry its taken so long. That being said, I come with a warning. Many of you may not like what happens in this chapter. When I told Anyanka Faith what was to happen, she kicked me out of her room, calling me a "vapid whore". I have to tell you, I love all these characters, and never want anything bad to happen to them. But, I have the entire story planned out, and this is necessary to move the plot along. Please remember this when you send your reviews filled with fire and brimstone. Love you all, and hope you will too after you read this chapter.  
  
PS: That confusing disclaimer was taken from my favorite novel, Bridget Jones's Diary. I'm not English, so I don't know how much 8st 12 is in American weight, or what EastEnders is. I'm just a dumb girl who loves James Marsters.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 10- Peace Never Lasts  
  
Walking through the sewers in Sunnydale wasn't always a pleasant experience for Krab. Vampires and other creatures that roamed the passageways weren't partial to the Flueruin demon race, and liked to use them as live punching bags. But, they had all left town, and those who stayed made sure to avoid the sewers. They all knew what was coming.  
  
Krab shivered a bit, a look of disgust appearing on his face when a large rat passed in front of him. Before the appearance of the Leader, he had lived in the clean forests of Sunnydale with the members of his tribe. They were peaceful, living off of nuts, berries, and squirrels.  
  
Then He came.  
  
In exchange for their alliance, he would give them all lives of comfort and pleasure. Of course, this would come after the plan had been completed.  
  
Coming to a Y-Junction, Krab stood for a moment, trying hard to remember which path to take. The sewers were a confusing place to live in.  
  
Five minutes later, he arrived at the headquarters. Rumors kept going around that it had once been used by the human race as some sort of secret military experiment. But it was now theirs, a large area where they could work in secret, away from prying eyes.  
  
Completely on task, Krab walked passed his former tribesmen, all of them seething with jealousy that HE had been chosen as the Leader's favorite.  
  
Pausing at the doorway to the Leader's office, Krab heard some noise inside. It was the Leader, yelling harshly at someone. When the noises ceased, Krab knocked timidly.  
  
"Come in." The voice was soft, yet full of power.  
  
Krab slowly opened the door, trying hard not to react to the scene in front of him. Hasnl, his former girlfriend, lay torn in half, her legs dangling off of the Leader's desk, her torso pinned against an old coat rack.  
  
"Ah, Krab," the Leader grinned, standing up to shake his flunky's hand, "How are things going?"  
  
"Perfectly well, sir!" Krab could feel Hasnl's eyes on him, a very uncomfortable feeling.  
  
"Wonderful," he sat back down, his lips curling in a smile against bright yellow teeth. "Wonderful."  
  
"Phase one is complete. The spies on the top have confirmed it."  
  
Leaning back in his ripped, dusty leather chair, the Leader folded his hands behind his head. "So, we have a complete connection to the Hellmouth, no interruptions?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Wonderful, simply wonderful." The Leader got up, walked over to a dry erase board that was near Hasnl's head, and erased 'Phase One' off the board. "As you can see," he indicated Hasnl, her mouth still open in shock, "We had a slight problem in manufacturing that will put us off a few days, but no worries."  
  
"No problem, sir."  
  
The Leader started to pace, muttering to himself. "What about the group of mortals?" he asked, turning to the smaller man.  
  
Krab smiled. "Completely in the dark. They know nothing, sir."  
  
Walking over to him, the Leader slung his arm around Krab, giving him a very masculine hug. "This day had started out very badly for me, but once again, you make it better." The Leader released his man, then returned to his desk, now interested in a pile of papers in front of him.  
  
Minutes later, the Leader became aware that Krab had not left. "Is there anything else?"  
  
Pulling at his index finger, Krab bit his lip. "There is one, one of the mortals, who may soon know what is going to happen."  
  
The Leader folded his arms across his chest. "And how would that be?"  
  
"I really don't know, they seem to have an intuition about what is going on."  
  
Knitting his brow together, the Leader started to think. Then, a small smile crept up on his face. "Then, you will have to dispose of this person."  
  
He pulled out a desk drawer, and began to rummage through it.  
  
Standing, the Leader approached Krab, a crowbar in his hand. "You will have to do it the human way, we wouldn't want any mystical traces on the body."  
  
"Yes, sir." Krab took the crowbar, then exited the room, developing a plan. Gotta go kill.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
  
  
Earlier that day  
  
A delightful smell tickled Tara's nose as she slowly awoke. She blinked as the sun slowly made its way into the room, painting it in a soft yellow color. Rolling over, she discovered the space next to her was empty.  
  
Willow? Where's Willow?  
  
Confused, she squinted while looking around the room. Willow's pajamas were spread across the hope chest at the foot of their bed, her closet door opened. Had Willow gone to work, not wanting to wake me up?  
  
Tara began to pout when the smell came to her again. It was coming from the kitchen. Willow.  
  
She lay on her back again, trying to make out the smells her partner was making.  
  
Sniff. Oatmeal with brown sugar. Sniff sniff. Orange juice, fresh with lots of pulp. Sniff. English muffin with raspberry jelly.  
  
Giggling to herself, Tara sat up slightly. She's making breakfast for me! A secret breakfast! Which I'm not supposed to know about . . .  
  
Uh oh!  
  
Tara lay back down, and shut her eyes. Willow was the type of person who liked her surprises to remain absolutely secret, and Tara wasn't about to let her enhanced senses remove her partner's happiness.  
  
Ever since she had gotten pregnant, all of her senses seemed to grow with power. Her sight, smell, even her magickal abilities. Last week, the tiny potted palm tree in the apartment was starting to sag. Tara performed a revitalizing spell, and not only did the palm get better, every single tree within a five-mile radius grew a foot.  
  
Pulling the covers to her chin, Tara brushed her hands past her swelled stomach.  
  
During the first few weeks of the pregnancy, Willow read their child's aura. With joy, she announced it was a velvety dark blue with flecks of gold. The child, whether it is a boy or a girl, would have powers beyond the imagination, and an honest soul.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted when the sound of high heels walking through the hallway came closer. The door opened, then shut slowly. A tray was set down on the hope chest.  
  
Willow crawled onto the bed, creeping slowly over to her partner, trying hard to suppress her giggles. She leaned in, and softly brushed her lips against Tara's.  
  
"Wake up, baby," she whispered.  
  
Blinking her eyes, Tara looked at the love of her life. "Hey sweetie," she faked a yawn, trying not to give the impression that she had been up for a while.  
  
As she started to sit up, Willow helped her. "Guess what I did?" Willow was smiling brightly, like a child on Christmas Day.  
  
"What?" Tara looked at the hope chest, and saw the breakfast.  
  
A bowl of creamy oatmeal, with swirls of brown sugar, sat in the center. To the right was a small plate, holding two golden halves of English muffins slathered with bright red raspberry jelly. A crystal wineglass was filled with juice. Completing the tray was a tiny pink rosebud in a glass vase.  
  
Tears of joy began to well up in her eyes. Even though she knew about it, the surprise was still perfect. "You're so wonderful."  
  
"As are you."  
  
Brushing her cheek, Willow came in for another kiss. This one was longer, not full of passion, but sweet like honey.  
  
A beeping went off somewhere. Breaking the kiss, Willow looked down at her watch.  
  
"Damn! I have to be at the school in a half-hour. Oh, I don't wanna go today," Willow started to pout.  
  
Tara came in and caught Willow's pouting lip, pulling on it. "Then don't!" she pulled away, pure joy in her eyes, "Stay here with me today! To hell with work and money!"  
  
Giggling, Willow stood up. "Nope, I have to go. Teaching the young'ins about binding spells, so it should be a fun day." She took her job as the mystical theory professor quite seriously.  
  
Picking up the tray, Willow set it next to Tara, getting a quick kiss. "I'll see you tonight?"  
  
Shaking her head, Tara sighed. "Nope, we're doing inventory tonight, so I'll be home late."  
  
"Grumble grumble," Willow frowned, "That Anya's a slave driver."  
  
"I know!"  
  
Willow grabbed her purse as she laughed. "See you when you get home. Love you!"  
  
"Love you too, baby."  
  
The door shut, and moments later Tara heard Willow's car start up and pull out of the driveway.  
  
Sighing, she took a bite of her oatmeal. Pure heaven. Well, at least the day wasn't a total loss.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
If I look at another honeysuckle scented candle, I'm going to blow my brains out!  
  
Tara breathed a sigh of relief as she left the Magic Box. It was past midnight and for five long hours she, Anya, and Giles had been sorting through the contents of the Magic Box, checking if the inventory matched the prices. They would have gotten out earlier if Anya hadn't decided at the last minute to recheck the figures. Her and her damned money!  
  
Looking up, Tara saw the moon, full and white. But, the rings around it troubled her. They were red, the color of blood, snaking around each other like ivy. Something was wrong.  
  
Quickly pulling her keys out of her purse, Tara began to move rapidly towards her car. If it weren't for the child, she would have been sprinting.  
  
When she reached the car, she felt a presence. It was sneaking around, trying not to be detected, but failing miserably.  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
The crickets chirped in response. A light wind caught her hair, blowing it back like ribbons.  
  
"Who's there?"  
  
She began to wish for Buffy, no Phoenix, to be around. Somehow, since she had returned, the worry seemed to go away.  
  
"Who's the-"  
  
A blinding pain, a metal bar being slammed against her back, silenced her. She fell to the ground, but rolled, as not to hurt the child.  
  
Another whack, this time against her shin, brought her to tears.  
  
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" She looked up, trying hard to catch the face of her assailant.  
  
It was a Flueruin demon, three horns sticking out of his forehead, teeth green and rotting.  
  
He didn't answer, instead hitting her left thigh with the jagged end of the crowbar, digging into her flesh.  
  
She gritted her teeth, tears streaming down her face in pain.  
  
Have to stop him, have to stop him . . .  
  
She felt him come up to her head, slowly checking out his work. Flinging out her arms, as to trip him, Tara caught a hold of his bare foot.  
  
As their skin made contact, his thoughts transferred to her in an instant. All the plans, mechanics; everything he knew about was passed to her. She saw all, the plans his master had, what they were going to do . . .  
  
What they planned to do to her family.  
  
"NO!" Tara screamed, not only for the pain she felt, but also for what she knew.  
  
Without any emotion, the demon raised the crowbar up, over her head, and quickly brought it down. The pain she felt soon gave way to blackness, and unconsciousness. 


	11. Never Underestimate a HalfDemon

Disclaimer: The intercom hisses, tiny crystal-like sparks sprouting from the where the knife was thrown. "You all," states Loki, walking around the conference table like a jungle cat, "Are idolaters. You hide behind your false idols committing horrendous sins." At this point, he stands behind the Director of Marketing. "Mr. Kendel here cheated on his wife of twenty years with the neighbor ten times, in the bed he and his wife sleep in." As Kendel lowers his head, Loki moves on to our Overseas Producer. "Mr. Ross used the company jet to fly to Indonesia to have sex with a twelve-year-old boy! Mr. Sampson," he turns to the heavyset Vice President, "disowned his gay son. Wonderful!" After moments in an agonizing silence, he turns to me. "Then we have Miss Lily-Bug, who has committed the most incredible sin imaginable. SHE wrote a crap-ass story using characters from Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer!" In a fit of rage, he slams his hands down on the table. "Now, I don't believe in voodoo or karma, something to punish you for your sins," he sighs, then pulls out a silver 9 mm and aims it at my head, "But I do believe in this!"  
  
Rating: R- isn't being immoral a wonderful thing? I sure do think so.  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: Happy! Another new chapter from my scary brain. So, I'm ok with the unpleasant reviews I got from the last chapter. It lets me know that you are reading and feel sympathy for the characters. Just to let you know I have everything planned out and it will all work out in the end. And if it doesn't, you may hunt me down, kidnap me, and torture me real good! I plan to finish this story by the end of November, and after that, who knows. Should I do a sequel, or should I start something completely different? Comments, please! I have some good ideas in mind. Oh, and I saw Tuesday's episode! What the fuck was that?! I want it to be the end of the season so I can see how everything works out. It's driving me nuts! AHHHH! Love you all!  
  
PS: It was really cool of you guys to tell me how much a stone is in American weight. Really cool. Thanks! Oh, and by the way, there will be NO Angel/Buffy love in my story or any future ones, except when I'm writing in the past. I have never been an Angel fan, nor will I ever be. He has stupid hair and was mean to Buffy! As Anyanka Faith says: "He's an ass monkey!" And my crappy disclaimer was, again, from the Kevin Smith movie Dogma  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Eleven- Never Underestimate a Half-Demon  
  
" . . . EITHER THOU OR I, OR BOTH, MUST GO WITH HIM!"  
  
Phoenix jolted out of her sleep to the screaming. For a second, she couldn't remember where she was. It was, after all, very late at night, and she had had a very bad day.  
  
Who's screaming? Wha . . . huh? Is that . . .? No! Why is Leonardo DiCaprio screaming at me?  
  
Blinking, she sat up. Yes, Leonardo DiCaprio was screaming, but not at her. Baz Lurhman's "Romeo and Juliet" was on TV, now at the point where Romeo shoots Tybalt.  
  
Slowly getting her bearings, Phoenix glanced around the room. It was pitch black, the light from the television illuminating the space. She lay on a very comfortable couch; her feet propped up in Spike's lap.  
  
She grinned when she saw the former Big Bad, his head tilted backwards, drool creeping out of his open mouth. His left arm draped over the back of the sofa, his right hand holding a half-finished can of pop.  
  
The moment ended when Phoenix realized she had to go, badly.  
  
"Hey Spike," she removed her feet from his lap and whispered into his ear, "Wake up." After nudging him gently, he blinked his eyes open.  
  
"Morning luv." His voice was groggy and hoarse.  
  
"Actually, I think it's evening."  
  
Glancing at his watch, he frowned. "Nope, 12:53 in the morning. I'm right." A proud, if slightly tired, grin settled on his face.  
  
With a mock-annoyed face, she rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Um . . . I have to go."  
  
Spike stood up. Great. Just like the old days. "You know where the door is." The blandness of his voice contained an edge of hurt. Why? Phoenix couldn't understand.  
  
Then it came to her. "NO!" she blurted out, half laughing, "I need to . . . you know, GO!"  
  
Seconds later, Spike got it.  
  
"Ah," he began to laugh, "Sorry. I forget about these things, what with being dead and all." Together, they walked to the door. "There's a gas station a quarter of a mile to the west. Very clean. Take Jilly-Bean there when I baby sit her."  
  
She grabbed her jacket, putting it on quickly. "Thanks bunches!" As she turned to leave, he grabbed her arm, making it so she was looking at him.  
  
"After doing your business, are you coming back?"  
  
Without hesitation, she nodded. "Where else am I going to go? Your place is roach-free, unlike my motel room." Turning, she ran out the door, half- sprinting, half-holding it in.  
  
True to his word, the bathroom was clean. She felt lighter, all that liquid evacuated from her system.  
  
The walk back to Spike's crypt was slower, specifically so she could think. Yesterday had been a day of hell, but at the same time, it was perfect.  
  
After hearing of the nightmares she put her friends through, Phoenix cried for two hours, Spike alternating between comforting and crying himself. When the tears had gone, they sat together in silence. In a gesture of gratitude, Phoenix helped Spike clean his crypt of the many liquor bottles, and then the two spent the afternoon and evening cleaning out the contents of his refrigerator and watching cable TV. No words, no accusations, no apologies. Just compassion.  
  
Seconds later, she was back at the crypt, which at the moment was completely empty.  
  
"Spike?" she asked, her voice filled with worry. Why would Spike leave?  
  
A grunt came from his bedroom downstairs. "Down here, pet." He seemed to be concentrating on something.  
  
Climbing down his makeshift steps, she found Spike rummaging through his closet.  
  
"Have somethin' for ya." He stood, holding something behind his back.  
  
"What?"  
  
Instead of answering, he held out his hands. In it was a light blue, lacy tanktop.  
  
"You left it here a few years back. I didn't find it until I started fixin' up my place. Though you might want it back."  
  
At first, she was repulsed. Here was an article of clothing that belonged to Buffy Summers, the girl who hurt her friends and family. Why the fuck do I want something of hers?  
  
Then she saw his face. There was no judgement, no hope for her to become Buffy. It was just a sweet gesture.  
  
"Thank you," the words were sincere, and she gratefully took the top from him.  
  
Before he could respond, a beeping sounded from upstairs.  
  
"Shit!" Spike raced up the steps in a frenzy, Phoenix following unsure of what caused the rush.  
  
"What is it?" she asked as he began to look through the drawers in his coffee table.  
  
"Phone."  
  
She laughed, shocking herself and Spike. "YOU have a phone!"  
  
He growled. "Shut up you bint! It's a cell phone, for Scooby emergencies." Underneath an old newspaper, he found it, pushed 'TALK' and put it to his ear.  
  
"What? Hey, Whelp." He nodded as Xander started to speak. "What is it? . . . Uh huh . . . oh God no." As Xander spoke, Spike's face became paler than she had ever seen it. "Christ! We'll be right there . . . Bu-Phoenix and me . . . Don't goddamn start now, Harris! Yeah, don't worry. We'll be there." He hung up the phone, then looked at Phoenix with gloomy eyes.  
  
"We have to go to the hospital, luv."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
As soon as the two entered the room, their friends were upon them, sharing hugs and sobs.  
  
"How is she?" Phoenix asked Giles after covering his shirt in tears.  
  
"They're not saying. Willow hasn't come out of the emergency room since she got here."  
  
Xander returned to his seated wife, who was tearfully feeding their son. "Tara's pretty bad. When they brought her in, I heard them say she may be in a coma."  
  
"What happened to her?" Phoenix sat in the chair across from Xander, wiping the tears away from her eyes.  
  
Giles, now seated next to Olivia, sighed. "She was attacked outside the Magic Box. Beaten with a heavy object and left for dead, apparently."  
  
Spike, who had been pacing around the room since they arrived, stopped. "Who the FUCK would do that to a helpless, pregnant woman?" He walked over to waiting room barrier, his face twisted in rage. "If I find those bastards, I'll . . ." he stopped, punching his fist into the blank, white wall.  
  
"Not if I find them first."  
  
The group turned at the voice. It was Willow, her face streaked with mascara, fists clenched in fury.  
  
Xander ran to his best friend. "How is Tara?"  
  
Willow wiped her face with the back of her hands. "She's in the operating room." As she spoke, her voice faltered, thinking of her lover in pain. "Her right leg is shattered, her back may be broken, she has a concussion, and her left leg is torn apart. The doctors . . . d-don't know if she's gonna wake up." Gathering her strength, she walked to and kneeled in front of Anya. "I have never asked you for anything, and if I have, I've repaid you. I wish that you find the assholes who did this and rip their lungs out."  
  
"Honey," Anya, giving Ryan to her husband, took the woman's hands in hers, "You know I would. I would break EVERY bone in their body, make them suffer incredibly! But, I'm not into vengeance anymore. I can't do it."  
  
Defeated, Willow sank down on the floor, sobbing heavily.  
  
"I just wish she would wake up."  
  
Eyes stared at the broken redhead, weeping on the cheep hospital carpet.  
  
Xander took the bottle out of Ryan's mouth, and replaced it with a pacifier. Thankfully, the boy had refrained from fussing, which was something he always did when his sister was around. Speaking of her . . .  
  
"Where's Gillian?" Xander began to search the waiting room, not seeing the tiny child anywhere.  
  
Anya stood, and the sound in the room ceased.  
  
"I don't know," Anya whispered, looking around the room.  
  
At the other end of the hospital, where the entrance to the ER was, Xander saw a small child with curly black hair pass through the swinging doors. He took off, full speed to catch his daughter.  
  
The Emergency Room was a maze of ambulance drivers, technicians, interns, doctors, nurses, and trauma victims. A security guard, seeing the man barge through the doors, tried to stop him, but Xander pushed him aside when he spotted Gillian's light pink bow pass behind a gurney. Through a corridor of rooms and patients, Xander followed the bow, which was always turning a corner when he spotted it. Then, near the end of a long hallway, he saw the bow go into a room.  
  
It was the operating room. Tara, bloody and bruised, lay on the table, completely unconscious. Xander would have been shocked at the sight, but he was more concerned with the doctor and three surgical nurses, who were invisibly "pinned" to the wall.  
  
"Don't let her do it," the doctor pleaded in a small voice, his eyes full of fear. Gillian, her eyes shinning a bright green, held her small hand up.  
  
"Shut up," her sweet voice now had underlying tones to it, as if groups of people were speaking the words.  
  
Xander approached his daughter, trying not to surprise her. "Honey, let the nice hospital people go."  
  
Before he could speak another word, some large force pushed against him, pinning him to the wall across from the doctors.  
  
"Shhh, Daddy, I know what I'm doing!" Gillian sighed, rolling her glowing eyes. In one quick motion, she was sitting on Tara's chest, staring intensely at her aunt.  
  
Pointing her head to the sky, she began to chant using a strange language. Her hands began to move over Tara's face, and a light started to glow from the girl's tiny body. Helpless, Xander could only watch.  
  
Then, the light snapped off, and Gillian jumped off the table. Xander and the surgeons were released quickly, and they all gathered around the unconscious woman's body.  
  
Suddenly, Tara's eyes blinked open. Once, twice, then staying completely open. The cut on her leg, Xander noticed, was not a horrible wound, but now was a small scar extending from knee to ankle. All of the large wounds were gone, leaving a slight tint of a bruise.  
  
Something tugged at his leg, and Xander looked away from the miracle to his small daughter.  
  
"I'm sorry I did that Daddy, but Auntie Pillow was sad, and she made a wish to make Auntie Tara better, so's I had to do it."  
  
Clearing his throat, Xander picked up the child. "I-I . . . I'm glad you did."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Her peaceful sleep was interrupted by a rather rude snore. Tara opened her eyes, and saw it was Giles.  
  
Damn him, she thought, giggling to herself. I don't know why they stayed.  
  
THEY happened to be Giles, Xander, Anya, Spike, Phoenix, and of course, Willow. Olivia had taken the children to her home earlier, saying they all needed a good sleep.  
  
Tara couldn't see how the adults could get this needed good sleep, all crowded in her private room. When the hospital staff complained about the amount of people staying in the room, Phoenix and Spike went out to have a "talk" with the staff.  
  
Sighing, Tara changed her position. Hospital beds were not the most comfortable to sleep in, but it sucked even more when your entire body was sore. She felt like one big bruise, but it was better than how Willow described her condition before Gillian worked her mojo.  
  
God bless her!  
  
Looking over, Tara felt a pair of eyes on her. It was Willow. When their eyes met, Willow stood up and began to walk to her love, a small smile on her face.  
  
"Shhhh! Don't wake them . . .," Tara warned, indicating the other sleeping people, right before Willow ran into a metal tray and nosily spilled the contents on the floor.  
  
"- Up." Finished the girl, as the sleepers opened their eyes.  
  
Standing as one, they all approached the bed, asking various questions concerning her health and sleep.  
  
"Fine, I'm fine!" insisted the woman, not wanting to know if the bruise on her forehead looked as bad as it felt.  
  
"Well, you're doing pretty fine for a woman who was beaten almost to death by muggers," Anya interjected, a bright smile on her face.  
  
Muggers? Tara became confused.  
  
"Muggers? No, muggers didn't attack me. I-I think it was made to look like I was, in case I didn't survive."  
  
"Then what was it?" Giles came forward, an interested look on his face.  
  
"I . . . it was a Flueruin demon, all by himself. He beat me with a crow bar."  
  
"Flueruin?" Spike looked around the room in shock. "They're peaceful little puffs. Why'd they want to go around beating pregnant women with crow bars?"  
  
"I don't know, but I think he has something to do with the Hellmouth weirdness." A silence filled the room. "Something strange happened. Before I went unconscious, I tried to stop him, but when I touched his skin, it was like I was looking into his mind. I saw everything."  
  
"What did you see?" asked Giles, taking his glasses off.  
  
"They're all at the old Initiative headquarters, his whole community, and they're being led by this demon. They call him 'the Leader', and I guess he's very old and very powerful."  
  
"Does he have a name?" Xander's eyes were the size of dinner plates.  
  
"Pitatch."  
  
Another silence followed.  
  
"Is there anything else?" Giles asked, placing his glasses back on his face.  
  
Tara nodded. "Yes, he . . ."  
  
Her doctor, walking in somberly interrupted her.  
  
"Miss Maclay, Miss Rosenburg, I have something important I need to discuss with you privately."  
  
Willow reached for Tara's hand, gripping it tightly. "Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of everyone."  
  
Looking around the room, the doctor noticed all the people. "Are you sure." The women nodded. Reading through his chart again, the doctor sighed.  
  
"It concerns your child."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
AN2: Hahaha! Who said I was gonna let Tara die? Nope, I just said she slipped into blackness. ^sings^ I played ya! I played ya! Hahaha! No, seriously, I love Tara, and cried for a half-hour when she died, so I would never let anything happen to her. So everyone is ok, except for maybe the baby . . . uh oh! Oops. Um . . . NO, PLEASE, DON'T THROW THINGS AT ME! 


	12. What's Important

Disclaimer: One day my cousin got a cat stuck up his ass. True story! And to make matters worse, it was a cat he bought at our town's mall, so it was all over the news. Anyway, there was this big operation to remove the cat from his asshole, and then he had to go see a therapist. Then the next week, he buys another cat and gets it stuck up his ass again. So our town went through the same thing all over again. Then, a few weeks later, I'm walking through the mall and I see him coming out of the pet store with ANOTHER cat! I walk up to him and say, "Hey moron, what the fuck are you doing? You know you're just going to get that cat stuck in your ass again!" And he looks at me right in the eyes and says, "Well, how else am I going to get Joss, the hamster I named for the super genius Joss Whedon who created Buffy the Vampire Slayer, out of my ass?" My cousin's a strange guy.  
  
Rating: R- this swell chapter is full of vulgar and casual swearing! Super!  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: I'm on a roll! Whoo hoo! This stuff just comes running out of my head like the diarrhea that comes out of Anyanka Faith's . . . oh, nevermind! I have a proclamation: FUCK HOMEWORK! Who cares about homework when there is fan fiction to write? I think we all need to band together and go to Congress and demand they stop teachers from giving homework to people who write fan fiction! Who's with me?! . . . No one? Fine, fuck you all! No, you know I love you all! Why else would I write this story? This is to give happiness to all Buffy-shippers out there! And I hope it does. Hugs and kisses and anal probes!  
  
PS: See that disclaimer up there? Well, I stole that from another Kevin Smith movie, Mallrats. Not as good as Dogma or Clerks, but a good romp. I do worship Brodie. He kicks ass, Reynolds style! Are you a lady, Mr. Kent?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Twelve-What's Important  
  
Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh . . .  
  
Krab felt like every single part of his body was shaking uncontrollably, like an electric current was racing though his body.  
  
He did NOT want to go through that door.  
  
Last night had gone along smoothly. He found the girl, beat her until she didn't move again, then took off. Before he left, he checked her purse. So this afternoon, when he was sure everything was over, he went to the hospital to confirm that a Miss Tara Maclay was dead.  
  
He found her all right, but sitting up, her body showing little signs of trauma. Maybe he hadn't hurt her as much as he thought she did. While he was thinking, he heard the girl say a name.  
  
Pitatch.  
  
She knew. How did she know? Human beings were a weird species.  
  
Now, he had to go report to the Leader, explaining that not only was the girl not dead, but she now knew what was being planned.  
  
Gathering his courage, he raised his hand up, and lightly knocked on the door.  
  
"Come in!" The leader sounded slightly pleased. It would not last for long.  
  
"Um, sir," Krab timidly poked his head through the door, his voice soft, "I have something to tell you."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
He was an older man, the doctor, past the age of fifty, with a grizzled beard and thinning hair. The expression on his face was gloomy. As he spoke, Phoenix reached for and clutched Spike's hand, Xander tightened his embrace around Anya.  
  
"It concerns your child."  
  
All the beating hearts in the room stopped. Time seemed to halt.  
  
A small tear traveled down Willow's face. "What?"  
  
"Miss Maclay, you have miraculously survived this attack, but I don't know if the same can be said for your child. It's too delicate to go through an ordeal like you went through. I've reviewed my notes thousands of times, and have come to the same conclusion." Putting the chart down and seating himself in the chair next to Tara's bed, he rubbed his forehead. "I don't think the baby will survive labor."  
  
Spike released Phoenix's hand, then grabbed the doctor by his throat and pushed him against the wall.  
  
"What the fuck do you mean 'I don't think'?" His blue eyes flashed a bright yellow.  
  
Totally terrified, the doctor choked out his words. "The child has suffered too much, and going through the process of labor may stress its system to the point of heart failure!"  
  
Before Spike could respond, he felt a hand lightly touch his shoulder. He turned. It was Phoenix, looking him in the eyes, gently shaking her head. Getting control of himself, Spike released the doctor and mumbled an apology.  
  
Rubbing his neck, the doctor returned to his seat. "Now, there are a few things you can do."  
  
"What are they?" Tara's voice lacked emotion, as did her face. It was all too much to go through.  
  
"You can let nature take its course and wait for a natural childbirth, which again I do not recommend. We can go through a few tests to determine how well the child is, but that can take a few days and you may start labor by that time. Or," he smiled at Tara, trying to comfort her; "We can perform a C-section."  
  
Ever the guy, Xander spoke up. "Huh?"  
  
Laughing lightly, the doctor looked at the clueless brunette. "Cesarean section. Cutting through the woman's uterus and removing the child." He returned his attention to his patient. "It's 100% safe; you and the child will not be affected in any way. If you choose this option, I can have the child out by midnight tonight. There will be some mandatory tests to take, and it will give you some time to rest."  
  
Willow looked at Tara, waiting for her response. Raising her head to look into Willow's eyes, Tara nodded.  
  
"Ok." Willow whispered, still crying, but the edges of a smile peaking at the corners of her mouth.  
  
"Wonderful," the doctor said, standing up to exit the room, "And I want you to rest up, so your guests should leave." Hanging her chart outside the door, he left.  
  
No one spoke, all waiting for Tara's response.  
  
It was laughter.  
  
"I'm gonna be a mommy tonight!" Like Willow, she was still crying, but her laughter took over. "We're gonna have a baby!" She reached for her partner, pulling her into an excited hug. The group wiped their tears away, and noisily began to congratulate the mother.  
  
Before the celebration could continue, Giles coughed. "Not wishing to be the party pooper, but taking that job anyway, I think I agree with the doctor. You need your rest, and what can we do here?" A chorus of groans sounded. "No need to end the party. There's some exciting research that needs to be done at the Magic Box! We need to find this Pitatch."  
  
"Since when did research become exciting?" muttered Xander.  
  
Giles picked up the pile of coats and began distributing them to their owners. "Hurry along now! The mommies need their rest."  
  
Pulling away from Willow, Tara threw her hands in the air. "Oh! I didn't tell you the rest! I know a whole bunch of stuff about Pitatch . . ."  
  
Exiting the room, but stopping briefly to muss Tara's hair, Giles interrupted. " . . . Which you will tell us after the birth. We're going to find some historical references and identify what kind of demon he is, then try to determine what he is planning. You will fill us in with the current information later. Come along!" he yelled, shepherding the guests out of the room.  
  
"Bye!" Willow and Tara yelled as the door closed, alone to rest together.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
I was soooo wrong! Research is a lot more boringer than Scooby meetings!  
  
Anya slammed a copy of "Middle-Eastern Mythological Prophesies" closed, dust rising from the pages. Said dust started wafting through the still air, then entering her nostrils.  
  
Oh . . . . . . . no!  
  
With the force of a jet plane, Anya sneezed, sending loose papers flying through the Scooby conference room.  
  
"Bless you," whispered Phoenix, deeply concentrated on a hardbound edition of "Morton's Encyclopedia for the Supernatural".  
  
Anya turned her attention to the girl sitting next to her.  
  
"Find anything yet?" asked the demon, not wanting to return to the tedious world of research.  
  
Phoenix shook her head, not looking up from the large book.  
  
For some weird reason, Anya felt hurt by the coldness she was receiving from her old friend. Damn these human feelings!  
  
"Is there something wrong?" inquired Anya, hoping to bring out a conversation.  
  
Feeling the attempt by her friend, Phoenix looked up. "Everything. If I don't focus on the research, I'll end up pulling out my hair."  
  
"What? Why?" Anya stood from her chair, then kneeled next to her.  
  
"All the world's going to hell. It's like when I was here before. The moment things started to go right, something happens that ruins it all."  
  
Her stomach jumped when she heard Phoenix speak. There's hope!  
  
"What was going right?" She hoped she wasn't sounding too intruding.  
  
"I started to feel like I was part of the gang again. But, the thing with Tara happened, and brought me back to the world. At least it will all end when leave."  
  
That small amount of hope Anya felt faded away. She gave Phoenix a small smile, then returned to her chair.  
  
Reaching for a leather bound notebook, Anya flipped through it, not finding the heart to do some intense reading. "Where are you gonna go when you leave?"  
  
Turning a page, Phoenix sighed. "I'll go back to Chicago, get my stuff. Then after that, who knows? Maybe I'll go to New York, or Seattle. Or I just might go overseas, to London or Venice."  
  
"You should visit Moscow," mumbled Anya, who was focusing on a section dealing with vampires of Southeastern France.  
  
Phoenix raised her head up. "Why?"  
  
"Oh," Anya came back to the world; "I was there in 1761. Empress Catherine summoned me to kill the Tsar. I put poisonous beetles in his dinner, and he died before dessert was served. I had never seen so much blood come out of a person's mouth."  
  
"That's great," Phoenix lied, making a face of disgusting.  
  
Looking back down at the notebook, Anya's mind began to race.  
  
She's not even considering staying. It's not even an option for her. When, and if, we defeat this Leader-guy, she's gone. And she'll hide. She'll hide even better. We won't be able to find her. And everyone will miss her, and it'll be like the first year she left, except worse. And . . .  
  
Anya stood up quickly, and threw the notebook in her hands against the wall.  
  
Jolting out of her concentration, Phoenix stared at her friend. "What's wrong?"  
  
Her voice full of anger, Anya began to scream. "You want to know what's fucking wrong?! God, you're so smart, why don't you figure it out?"  
  
"What the hell is your problem Anya?"  
  
"DAMN IT TO HELL!" Kicking her chair across the room, Anya stood so she was looking down the face at her friend. "I want you to take a look at what your life is! You live in a crap-ass apartment in Chicago, making a living as a waitress! You have no friends, no family, and certainly no future! And when things go wrong, you pack up your stuff and move to a new town to start the same life all over again!"  
  
"Shut up," whispered Phoenix.  
  
"You live this pathetic existence, forgetting what you have here in Sunnydale! In this fucking town, you have countless people who love you! Four people who would name YOU as their best friend! A man who would classify YOU as his daughter! A demon who found his humanity before his soul because he fell in love with YOU!" her voice broke as she yelled, tears starting to fall down her face. "And you always seem to forget that! You forget about all the people who you hurt when you left the first time, and who you're gonna kill again when you leave! So excuse me for having a problem with this, because when you leave, I have to deal with Xander and Willow and Giles and Tara and Spike!"  
  
"FUCK YOU!" Phoenix screamed, standing up. "It's so easy for you, isn't it?! You can play the role of 'Mother to the World' because you have that option! I don't! I have the Midas touch of destruction! Everyone I get close to suffers so incredibly because of what I am! It all boils down to the fact that everyone I love dies because I'm the GOD-DAMNED SLAYER!"  
  
Gritting her teeth, Anya stood her ground. "What does that have to do with . . ."  
  
"I saw him! I FUCKING SAW HIM, and I couldn't do ANYTHING!"  
  
Anya backed away, giving the girl space. "Who did you . . ."  
  
"The vampire who killed Dawn!" Her voice shattered, like it was made of delicate crystal. "He was standing right behind her, grinning, knowing she would be an easy kill. I saw him, and I couldn't run over there, or tell her to watch out. I was sworn to protect her, and I couldn't find the courage to say 'Dawn, behind you!' until it was too late. I shouldn't have allowed my baby sister to be so far away from me when we were patrolling. If I had been a good Slayer, or to that matter, a good sister, she would've been home that night, doing her geometry homework and watching TV, while I saved the world."  
  
Putting her head down, Phoenix started to cry, turning away from the shocked demon.  
  
Anya watched her friend for a few moments, understanding everything at once.  
  
"Honey," finally spoke the brunette, putting a hand on the girl's back, "It wasn't your fault. Dawn was killed because something evil randomly decided to kill her. You reacted the way any mortal human would react: shock. There's no way you were even remotely responsible for her death. And what if you could have saved her? She could've been in a car accident the next day, or die from food poisoning a week later. Death is part of the lives of humans. You can't blame yourself every time someone you love gets injured or dies."  
  
Phoenix did not turn around. "That's wonderful Anya. Thank you very much for your words of wisdom."  
  
"Buffy!" Anya forced the girl to turn and look at her. "Yes, Buffy! I'm talking to you! You have a responsibility to your friends and to the world to be a protector. Shit happens. Get over it and do your job." She pulled Phoenix into a hug. "We love you too much to lose you again."  
  
They stood there a while, embracing in the silence.  
  
The door opened, breaking the moment. It was Xander.  
  
"Hey girls, that . . ." he paused, noticing the tears in the two's eyes, "Is there something wrong?"  
  
Brushing away the tears, and sneaking a quick look of gratitude at Anya, Phoenix shook her head. "Nope, Xan-man. What is it?"  
  
He grinned. "Willow was on the phone. They're getting ready to take Tara into the operating room for the G-section, or whatever it's called. So, get your coats, and let's get a move on." He turned, and closed the door behind him.  
  
"Ready to go be an aunt?" asked Anya as she stacked all the papers up.  
  
Phoenix smiled. "I guess so."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
"Now Tara, I'm going to make the first incision. Are you ready?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
As the doctor cut into her flesh, all Tara could feel was a small touch, like a butterfly was dancing across her stomach. The anesthesia made her feel like she was flying eight feet above her body.  
  
"How you doing there, baby?" Willow asked, bringing her back to the world.  
  
Feeling so calm, Tara only nodded. Willow took a hold of her hand and rubbed it, wondering what the doctors were doing on the other side of the cloth divider.  
  
The sight of Willow was quite funny. She was done up in hospital scrubs, an un-attractive blue color, completed by a little paper surgical mask and bonnet.  
  
A nurse stood with them on the non-operation side of the divider, keeping an eye on the patient. "Do you two want a girl or boy?" asked the middle- aged woman.  
  
"I don't care, and she says she doesn't either," laughed Willow, "But I know for a fact she's hoping for a girl."  
  
"Nuh-huh, Bubble Duck," mumbled Tara.  
  
"Bubble Duck?" questioned Willow, looking at the nurse.  
  
"Anesthesia," whispered the nurse, pointing a finger at Tara.  
  
Grinning down at her partner, Willow kissed her hand.  
  
Then, there was a noise. A small gurgling sound, like a river was running right through the operating room. It was followed shortly by a loud cry.  
  
"What's going on?" Willow panicked for a moment.  
  
The doctor, a bright smile on his face, looked over the divider. "Miss Maclay, Miss Rosenburg, I'm pleased to announce you are the parents of a beautiful, healthy, baby girl!" Then his arms reached over, and placed a small bundle on Tara's chest.  
  
As the surgeons began to stitch her up, Tara and Willow met their little girl. At that moment, they fell head-over-heels in love with her. She had a small, heart-shaped face, a tiny button nose, and a crown of bright . . .  
  
"Red hair?" exclaimed Willow, taking a closer look at her daughter's head. "How'd she get red hair?"  
  
Tara smiled. "When you weren't around, I requested that the sperm donor be a red head, so there can be a little bit of the woman I love in her."  
  
Placing a soft kiss on Tara's forehead, Willow felt a small tear fall down her cheek. "I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you. You are the most incredible, glorious woman in the world."  
  
"Damn straight."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Twenty minutes later, the newborn baby met her extended family in her mother's private room. It was littered with thousands of gifts, flowers, and balloons.  
  
"Lemme see! Lemme see!" screeched Gillian, as she and Derek ran over to the bed Tara lay on, the baby in her arms. Willow boosted the two up so they could get a better look. "Oooh," she whispered, her lips forming an 'O' shape, "She's really pretty."  
  
Ryan, held up by his mother, got a peak at the infant.  
  
"Baby!" he exclaimed, letting the world hear his first word. Anya bounced him up, congratulating her son.  
  
The little girl was passed around the room, each of her aunts and uncles cooing and fussing over her.  
  
"What's her name?" asked Spike, as soon as he finished talking baby talk to the child.  
  
Willow and Tara exchanged a look of agreement, finally settling over the name.  
  
"Laila," announced Willow.  
  
"That's a beautiful name," sighed Olivia, as Laila was put in her arms and she began to rock her softly.  
  
Phoenix finally got to hold the girl just as the doctor came in and began to speak. Everyone, except for her, turned his or her attention to him, but she was mesmerized. Laila was so small, so delicate, that it reminded her of the first time she held Dawn.  
  
I can't leave now. This sweet little girl is going to need me to take care of her. And I'm gonna. I'm gonna be the best aunt a Slayer can be.  
  
"Hey sweetie," she whispered, so no one except for Laila could hear, "Nice to meet you. I'm your Aunt Buffy."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Elyog hurried down the corridor, ideas flashing in her brain. She had never been requested to speak with the Leader, so reasons why he wanted her kept coming to her.  
  
Maybe he wants me to fix something in the research department, or maybe he wants to compliment me on my work . . . or he doesn't like what I'm doing and is gonna kill me!  
  
Holy shit!  
  
Her thoughts ceased as she rounded a corner and saw the Leader, waiting outside his office. Every so often, he would stare at his hands, covered in slimy goo, and then stare at the door leading to his office.  
  
"Sir?" she asked, speaking in a small voice, "You wanted to see me?"  
  
"Ah yes," he laughed, putting a large smile on his face, "Elyog darling, I've been noticing the work you've been doing the last few months, and I must say, I am very satisfied."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
He scrunched up his forehead in thought. "Wasn't it your group that developed System 6?"  
  
An eager nod came from her. "Yes, we discovered a way to convert a vampire's energy to reverse . . ."  
  
"Marvelous!" he interrupted, wanting to come to the point, "Now, I've had quite a bit of difficulty with my teams, let me tell you. The people who have, in the past, worked for me, seem to forget how important this project is. So, I've let a few of them go, and have been looking for new assistance with a sense of loyalty." Placing his rather large arm around her smaller frame, he drew his head in close. "I would like to offer you a position as one of my top assistants."  
  
She felt her jaw drop, as her eyes grew large with excitement. "Oh my God! I-I . . . thank you so much sir."  
  
"You're quite welcome." He smiled as he removed his arm.  
  
"What do you want me to do now?" she asked, ready to start her new job.  
  
"That's what I like, pushing along," he laughed, taking a handkerchief out to wipe his hands, "I have a bit of a cleaning job for you to do right now, and after that, we can get to work." As he spoke, he turned the doorknob and let the door swing open.  
  
It was quite a sight. Krab, the Leader's apparently former assistant, was lying headless on top of the large desk, his stomach ripped apart and intestines scattered across the room. She found his head, a few feet away, sitting on the armrest of a small chair, his mouth open in terror.  
  
Noticing her reaction, the Leader came up behind her. "I would call this sight a slight incentive to do a good job." With that, he turned to wash himself off in his private bathroom.  
  
Holy shit! 


	13. Admitting the Truth

Disclaimer: With incredible force, her hand slaps me across the face. "You wanna start something, bitch?" Anyanka Faith's head starts moving snake- like, waiting for my rebuttal. "No, slut, I think I'm gonna finish something!" I ball up my fist, then punch the cock-sucking whore in her stupid little nose. A steady stream of crimson blood starts to pour down her nose, which is currently being covered by her damn hand. "You are sooo going to regret that, beeatch!" Her hands reach up and grab my hair, pulling as hard as she can. I do the same. Soon we're in a stalemate, neither one willing to give up. "I just have to make this clear before I pistol whip your ass," I scream, my scalp tingling with pain, "Joss Whedon, who created Buffy the Vampire Slayer, is much better than J.K. Goddamned Rowling!" "Oh sure bitch," she wails, digging her talon-like nails into my head, "Just to let you in on the 411, I fucked your husband and he's the daddy of my baby!" Pushing her on the ground roughly, I stand above her, rage building up in me. "BITCH," I scream, "MY HUSBAND AIN'T THE DADDY OF YOUR BABY!" I'm gonna stab her, I'm gonna stab her good.  
  
Rating: R- warning warning warning warning warning warning suggested sex warning warning warning  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: More, much more! Yes, there is more. Whoa, I'm getting near the endpoint here, sort of. I hope you like the story, how it's going, and appreciate what I do in this chapter (hint: look in the disclaimer, tee hee hee). I still love getting reviews. Which, by the way, brings me to a proposition to all you who read my story. I have an idea for a sequel ready, and possibly a third installment. But, I also have another idea for a new story that has nothing to do with the plot line and characters from "Exit, Stage Left". So, here's what's going to happen. You get me 100 reviews by the time I finish this story, and I'll go on with the sequel. If not, I start in with the new story, which I thought up while I was incredibly depressed one day. Just a warning, and I plan on going through with it. I love you all.  
  
PS: The disclaimer was taken from Anyanka Faith and my daily life. No, just kidding. I stole it from a generic version of Jerry Springer. And the whole "My husband ain't . . ." was stolen from "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back". I have no problem with J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter series. I appreciate the effort she's put forth to make reading popular again. My disclaimers don't really mean anything; I just have some fun. And just to point out, I don't have a husband, and she doesn't have a baby. I don't think.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Thirteen- Admitting the Truth  
  
Ugh! Burritos are not my friends!  
  
Feeling slightly nauseated, Buffy leaned against a mausoleum wall, regretting her choice to take thirds on Olivia's special Mexican food. The moment passed, and she was on her feet, prepared to kill any evil creature that dared challenge her.  
  
"C'mon, doesn't anything wanna piece of me tonight? Vampires? Demons? Creatures of the night? Hey, speak up, and I won't fight back for the first five minutes! Great deal, huh?" Not hearing a response, she frowned and shoved her hands into her coat pockets.  
  
Life stinks. Not one Big Bad wants me to kick the shit outta them.  
  
Actually, revise that statement. Life doesn't stink, Big Bads do.  
  
Smiling at herself, Buffy backflipped onto a stone grave and sat down, ready to relax. From her vantage point, she had a perfect view of downtown Sunnydale, which was merely a sea of colored lights shining in the night.  
  
Hmmm, this is nice. Can't believe I was ready to leave a few days ago.  
  
Since the birth of Laila, Buffy had been incredibly busy. There was training with Giles, research to find the newest evil, dinners at her friends' homes, and patrolling. But, what they didn't know was she was secretly searching the classifieds for a job and a place to live.  
  
It had been three days since she decided to stay, to give up the façade of Phoenix and resume her life in Sunnydale, picking up where she had left off. The Scooby gang had no idea that their plan worked. She hadn't told anyone because she had to get used to the idea before telling all. And that might be a while.  
  
Another tummy rumbling started, and Buffy lay on the cold cement surface, rubbing her stomach to ease the discomfort.  
  
I haven't eaten this well since I left, and I think the good food is gonna make me sick.  
  
Monday night, the evening after Laila's birth, Buffy had her first meal at Giles and Olivia's home, a quiet yet spacious apartment on the good side of town. Tuesday evening, she invaded the Harris home, then went on demon patrol with Xander, reminiscing on their old battles. And today, Wednesday, the Scooby gang broke tradition and had dinner at Willow and Tara's house, followed shortly by a welcome home party for the newborn.  
  
Wednesday? Is it Wednesday? That means I've been here . . . one week.  
  
In one week, I've changed my mind and decided to stay. Damn, that says A LOT about my convictions!  
  
Someone in the area interrupted her thoughts as she lay on the sarcophagus. Her Slayer sense started going off. It was a vampire, one close by, trying hard to sneak up on her. She lay still, and carefully pulled a stake out of her pocket.  
  
Here we go! That's what I'm talkin' about!  
  
"Hey," she spoke, as she felt the vampire grow closer, "You know it's not very nice to sneak up on people while their resting. Guess I'll just have to teach you with a little rough and tumble."  
  
Prepared to fight, she lay on the stone surface, waiting for it to make the first move. Then, her Slayer sense stopped, the vampire having left the area.  
  
Something was off. It was just a little too quiet. Her senses had stopped too suddenly.  
  
It was planning something.  
  
She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the sarcophagus, scanning the cemetery with her eyes.  
  
Before she could do anything, her Slayer sense kicked in full blast, and a cold hand snuck up behind her and covered her mouth, preventing her from screaming.  
  
"Luv," it whispered darkly into her ear, "You know I was never a 'rough and tumble' kind of lad. I preferred 'cheap liquor and hurricane force tumble' followed by you calling me 'evil' and leaving me alone."  
  
"SPIKE!" she screamed, pushing his hand away from her face, and turning her head to look at him, "You are SUCH a bastard!"  
  
He was grinning, very pleased with himself. "I've always known that. And I never tried to hide it."  
  
"I was so gonna stake you!"  
  
Laughing out loud, he walked around the stone block so he was facing her. "You wouldn't, and you couldn't." He took her hands and pulled her up. "I'm just too damn adorable."  
  
Rolling her eyes, she pushed him and quickly began to walk away. "Bastard." She whispered when she was far away.  
  
"What?" he asked loudly, his vampire hearing picking up the words.  
  
She turned, still angry. "I said, BASTARD!"  
  
As he started smiling again, she couldn't help but do the same. Slowly, they joined together and started to walk through the empty cemetery.  
  
"What're you planning to do tonight, Phoenix?" he asked after a few moments of silence.  
  
She caught herself trying to correct him. No, just call me Buffy from now on. It was still too soon.  
  
"Umm," she said, pursing her lips as she thought, "I'm probably going to finish patrolling, then head back to my motel for a long, hot shower, and sleep!"  
  
"Oh," he whispered, looking down at the ground, "I was kinda hoping, after we got done, you'd go back with me to my place so's we could watch the telly, eat pizza, and get smashed on a bottle of really bad wine."  
  
"You were hoping?"  
  
Spike shrugged. "Kinda."  
  
"Hey, wait a minute!" she cried. "Your crypt isn't anywhere near this cemetery, and I said I would do patrolling tonight! Did you come all the way here just to invite me?"  
  
Gasping to find an intelligent excuse, Spike paused, gave up and smiled sheepishly. "Yeah," he purred.  
  
Shocking the embarrassed vampire completely, Buffy linked her arm through his, then flashed him a bright smile as they continued their walk.  
  
"I accept your request." For a moment, she could have sworn Spike was blushing. "After all," she continued, "It's not like there's a lot of evil things roaming about to kill. I don't know if the lack of badness in the town is because of this Pitatch guy, or if it's because you and the Scoobies did such a good job of patrolling while I was gone. By the way," she questioned, "How did you guys manage to keep Sunnyhell in one piece?"  
  
"Oh," he explained, doing an obvious imitation of Giles, "It was a very complex system of me and the Whelp switching off nights to patrol, the rest helping when they could, and . . . well, stopping anything that was evil in nature."'  
  
"Very complex."  
  
"Quite."  
  
"Well," she thought aloud, a mischievous plan forming in her mind, "I don't know how you did it."  
  
"Did what, pet?"  
  
"You know, defeat all those evil creatures with everyone knowing you're such a pushover nowadays."  
  
An appalled look formed on his face as he stopped walking. "PUSHOVER?!"  
  
"Mmm hmm." She nodded, still walking and preparing to run. "I bet whenever some newbie vamp comes running into a crypt and says, 'Spike's on patrol!', all the elders start laughing and say, 'Who, Spike? Nope, he's nothing to worry about. Hell, he's harmless!'"  
  
"TAKE THAT BACK SLAYER!"  
  
"Oh, help me someone!" she fake-cried, totally into the acting. "I think he's mad at me!"  
  
With a loud roar, Spike lunged at her, but she was already off and running.  
  
Jumping over large stone sarcophagus and weaving between headstones, Buffy ran as fast as she could, loving the feel of the chase. Every once in a while, she would duck behind some large object, getting a glimpse of the former Bad searching for her. Then, she would take off in another direction. This rather odd game of Hide and Seek lasted for a while.  
  
After spending five minutes hiding in a freshly dug grave, Buffy crouched behind a tombstone. Spike came into view, about fifty feet away, pensively surveying the area, then headed off in an easterly direction.  
  
Unable to hold it in any longer, she burst out laughing. It lasted a few moments, then slowly, as Buffy started to study the tombstone in front of her, died down.  
  
It was medium sized, nothing unique. A small rose was carved near the top. Anyone passing by wouldn't have paid it any special attention. But, the words inscribed in the stone hit her hard.  
  
Dawn Summers  
  
May 27, 1986- October 14, 2002  
  
"Oh, God," she moaned while kneeling down beside the headstone. With a shaking hand, she reached out and traced the words with her fingers. Tears began to travel down the side of her face.  
  
Two strong arms closed around her body. "Found ya, luv," whispered Spike in her ear. Then he noticed that she was shaking.  
  
"Phoenix? Phoenix-luv, what's wrong?"  
  
She didn't respond. Carefully reaching out, he grabbed her chin so she would look at him. "Phoenix? Phoenix . . . Buffy, tell me what's wrong."  
  
Taking in a quivering breath, Buffy looked at the headstone, then rapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into Spike's shirt.  
  
Reading the tombstone, he slowly closed his eyes. "Christ." Sighing, Spike pulled her in closer, lightly rubbing her back.  
  
Buffy now began to cry freely. "I . . . I d-didn't know it w-would be this bad." Releasing her hands from Spike, she turned and ran her hands along the cool stone surface. "I haven't been here in six years, and she's been all alone this time," she shakingly cried, "Just lying here, all alone. No one to protect her. Like I should have done." Leaning in, she kissed the carved rose. "I'm so sorry, Dawnie."  
  
Scooting slightly so he was sitting next to her, Spike extended his arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to worry. She was protected."  
  
Wiping away her tears, she turned to look at him. "By who?"  
  
"Me."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Shrugging, he gestured towards the stone. "I come here once a week, make sure the stone's clean, no weeds are growing nearby. And I do the same for your mum."  
  
"Why?" she asked, looking into his eyes.  
  
"Who else would do it?" He stood, then started pacing as she watched. "When you left, I had nothing to keep me here. You were the reason that I stayed in this hellhole, and with you gone, I had no reason to stay. 'Bout a year after you left, I was prepared to leave, but then Harris and Demon-girl got married, and I realized something."  
  
Stopping, he looked down at her. "They were gonna get on with their lives, have children, go to parent-teacher conferences, coach their kids soccer teams. Soon, they'd all move to a different place, a safer place, or get old and die. Bit," he smiled sadly at the stone, "Was gonna be here, all alone, no one to watch out for her." Kneeling to the ground, he took her hands in his. "When I went and fell in love with you, protecting your family became my official duty. So I stayed."  
  
A wave of emotions swept upon Buffy, and she stood up, trying to comprehend what had just been said.  
  
Finally, a sad smile formed on her lips. "I don't deserve you."  
  
"Piffle," he said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"No," she exclaimed, "I really don't deserve you. Any of you! You guys have always been there for me, and I left you to clean up my mess when I ran away! 'I don't have to worry about a thing, Giles and Willow and Spike and all the rest will be there to pick up my shit!'" She paused, remembering things from the past. "When we were together, I treated you like shit. You were this little lovesick puppy, and I beat you and called you horrible things, and you still came back. And when I finally grew up and actually saw you, I began to fall in love with you. But I left, because I thought only about myself. You shouldn't be allowed to love someone as selfish as me."  
  
Standing up, Spike felt his breath catch in his chest. "Do you," he quietly asked, "Still love me?"  
  
Regret for not saying it sooner consumed her. "I don't think it's possible for one person to love another more than I love you."  
  
His mouth hung open, searching for words to say, as tears of pure joy filled his eyes.  
  
Slowly, the space between them grew smaller, then was gone as she cupped his face in her hands. Timidly, he enclosed her waist with his arms. Their heads moved closer together, Spike biting his lip as Buffy softly smiled. Lips found lips. All the passion, anger, fear, and love was lost as they shared that long, pure kiss.  
  
It didn't last.  
  
Suddenly, Spike pulled away, all the tenderness gone, replaced by anger.  
  
"No," he whispered harshly, then turned and ran, leaving Buffy alone.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Slamming the door open to his crypt, Spike ran through, feeling satisfaction as it shut loudly behind him. He kept replaying the kiss in his head, that wonderful moment, ruined because he knew what was going to happen.  
  
Jumping down the stairs two at a time, he found himself in his bedroom. Shedding off his trench coat, he sat on the bed and pulled off his shoes. After letting one fall on the floor, he held the other one in his hands, examining it. Examining proof that this shitty and fucked up world existed. Gripping it tightly, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.  
  
Standing, he began to quickly pace, running his hands through his hair as he thought.  
  
A noise sounded from upstairs. His door was thrown open by someone stomping loudly as they walked.  
  
"SPIKE!" she screamed, her voice filled with rage. Running down the steps, she spotted him and went over so she was standing right under his nose.  
  
"What the FUCK was that about?!"  
  
Shaking his head, he stared at her with astonishment. "You're not going to do it again!"  
  
"DO WHAT?!"  
  
With a laugh, he pushed her away. "I'm not going to let you do this to me! Make me fall for you even more! Like you said, I'm not your fucking puppy! You can't say you're in love with me!" He ran past her and up the stairs, but stopped halfway up. "You'll be here, what, a month more? Then after that, you're off, trotting the world because you can't find it in your heart to stay here! And if you leave here, after saying those wonderful things to me, I don't know if I'll be able to survive! So leave me the fuck alone!" Half expecting her to run up and slap him, Spike turned his back to her.  
  
But she didn't. He heard her sit in the armchair next to his bookshelf.  
  
"Spike, I have to tell you something," she calmly stated. Still seething, he turned and came down so he stood aways from her.  
  
She put her hands in her lap, then licked her lips. "I may not have made the right choices in life, but I know not to make the same mistake twice. Now, what I said to you was, and is, true: I love you. I have for a long time. I was just too stupid to admit it," she sighed, shaking her head. "I seem to have this history where all the people I love leave me, and I'll be damned if I do that to anyone again. What I'm saying is . . . well, I'm not going to leave."  
  
Taking a step back, Spike stared at her in shock. "What?"  
  
"I'm going to stay in Sunnydale."  
  
Buffy stood up, waiting for a response.  
  
"Say it again," requested Spike, moving towards her.  
  
"I'm staying."  
  
"Say it again." He was three feet away from her, a smile spreading across his face with each passing second.  
  
"I'm staying," she said, enunciating every syllable.  
  
The space between them was gone. "Say it again," he whispered, softly rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand.  
  
Giggling softly, she looked up at him. "I'm staying, forever and ever."  
  
He leaned down, centimeters away from her lips. "Just wanted to make sure." Suddenly, he leaned in, and kissed her so intensely she felt all her breath leave her lungs.  
  
She opened her mouth slightly, and he caught her bottom lip, lightly nibbling on the flesh. Her hands snaked up and hooked around his neck, her fingers lightly brushing his skin.  
  
All too soon, she ran out of breath, and leaned her head against his neck. He started showering tiny kisses on her neck and earlobe.  
  
"What do I call you, luv?" he whispered into her ear.  
  
Moaning at the tickling of his breath on her neck, she opened her mouth. "Buffy."  
  
They went back in for another kiss, this time more passionate. As they did, he reached through her long coat and pulled her tank top up a bit, rubbing her bare skin. He soon felt his shirt being pulled up from the back, and it was quickly on the floor, followed by her coat and top. Continuing the kiss, he slowly guided her to his bed, taking great care to set her down gently.  
  
Rising slightly, he gazed at her as she lay on the bed, her long hair fanning away from her body.  
  
"God, you're gorgeous."  
  
Lightly smiling, she pulled him back to her. 


	14. An Explaination, A Duty

Disclaimer: The lights of Paris shine through the dark, making the city look like a cavern of jewels. As I stand from the top of the Eiffel Tower, his arms holding me tightly, the world seems suddenly at peace. I want nothing more than to stay here forever. "Lily," he whispers into my ear, "I know that I can never compare to your last guy . . ." "Please don't worry about it," I sigh. "No," he insists, "I will. Lily, Joss Whedon's Buffy the Vampire Slayer was an incredible inspiration for you. There's no hope that I can ever be that for you." As he talks, he reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a small black box. "But," he adds, snapping open the box, revealing an exquisite diamond, "Would you let me try?"  
  
Rating: R- you had your sex, today it's just violence  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: It keeps coming! I am so going to finish! To hell with school, college applications, human contact, food, and taking a shower! I am going to finish my story! And, all my loves, remember my offer (see chapter thirteen for a reminder). Hopefully, you will get what you want. I love you all, but I still love money more.  
  
PS: I don't know where that disclaimer came from. My parents came home a few hours ago from their twenty-year anniversary (they went to Las Vegas). Guess what my dad gave my mom for a present? A beautiful three stone diamond ring! She sure does know how to pick them. It just goes to show you: Diamonds are a girl's best friend.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Fourteen- An Explanation, A Duty  
  
"Elyog, I am afraid that I have some doubts."  
  
The minion stared in disbelief. "No, that can't be true sir!"  
  
Giving a sad look, the Leader pitifully sighed. "I have, my dear, I have."  
  
"About what?"  
  
Moving away from the wall that held all the figures and charts, the Leader sat on the edge of his desk right in front of Elyog, who was seated in a chair.  
  
"The countdown to the transformation has begun, we are on schedule with manufacturing and production, it's just . . . I'm a bit concerned about the Slayer and her friends."  
  
"Ooo," she exhaled, her mouth in a perfect 'o' shape.  
  
Nodding, his shoulders sagged a ways. "You know that at this point, I am quite vulnerable. The slightest attack could prove fatal for me. And if she decides to fight me, I cannot defend myself."  
  
Kneeling in front of her master and kissing his knuckles, Elyog stared up in awe. "Tell me what to do."  
  
"Good Elyog," he whispered, patting her on the head. "Krab's failed assassination of the witch hurt us greatly, and we cannot have another blow like that. I need you to be ready to kill the Slayer or anyone who associates with her, whether they are mortal or not. If you see them, don't simply hurt them. I want them all dead."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
A light tickling on her stomach brought Buffy out of sleep. It had been a peaceful rest, no dreams. Just sleep. As she slowly woke, the tickling increased.  
  
"Mmm, stop," she hoarsely whispered, patting the hands away. Laughing slightly, Spike rested his hands on her stomach.  
  
They lay on his bed; him spooned up against her, his light silk blanket covering their naked forms.  
  
Nuzzling his head into the curve of the back of her neck, he inhaled, taking in her scent. Something sweet, like honey or strawberries, mixed in with a spicy cinnamony fragrance, the exotic and dangerous part she hid. Intertwined was a newer smell, something he didn't recognize. It was warm and comforting, his own little taste of sunshine. Then he realized what it was. Her new perfume was pure, unquestionable love.  
  
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," he whispered into the back of her neck.  
  
As his cool breath washed over her neck, tiny mountain ranges of Goosebumps formed over her skin.  
  
"No," she pouted, not wanting to get up from this perfect moment.  
  
Buffy rolled over, giving her love a morning kiss. She could see tiny golden flecks in his deep blue eyes, which were half closed in pleasure. His hair was matted up on one side; the other side peaked with slight curls. The bed head gave him a child-like look. At this point, she would have sworn that no one existed that was more handsome than he did, and all she wanted at that moment was him.  
  
Rubbing her thumbs suggestively up and down his abs, she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  
  
Getting the picture, Spike cocked his eyebrow up, but took his hands and snaked them around her waist.  
  
"Nuh-huh," he purred, kissing her lightly on the lips, "We've done what you've wanted for years. Now it's my turn."  
  
Sticking out her bottom lip, hoping to change his mind, Buffy whined. "Please, just once?"  
  
"Nope, it's cuddle time." Pulling her closer to him, Spike began to rub her back. She buried her face into the crook of his neck.  
  
"Fine, we'll do what you want." Moving her hands to his back, she let her fingers explore his skin. "For such a quote-unquote Big Bad, you sure have an obsession with cuddling."  
  
"Well, luv, all men have their weaknesses, evil or not." They laughed as he kissed the top of her head. As he pulled away, he noticed something. "Hey Buffy, you need a color job soon. Your roots are showing."  
  
"WHAT?!" she screamed, sitting up quickly. Pulling at her auburn hair, she began to look for the signs of her actual color. "WHERE?!"  
  
God, women.  
  
"Just at the top. 'S not a lot, just an inch or so at the part. A quick visit to the salon will take care of that."  
  
Feeling relieved, she lay back down to resume their original positions. "Spike?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What . . ." she sighed, unsure of what to say, "What color should I dye it?"  
  
A small laugh erupted from his throat. "Well, I was always partial to the blonde Buffy, but it's up to you."  
  
Looking up at his ceiling, Buffy contemplated it. "If I'm gonna be Buffy again, I guess I just better go back to what I was used to."  
  
He too was thinking. "Um, luv? I . . . have something to ask you. What are we going to tell everyone? I mean, I take it no one else knows about your plans, but then there's this whole . . . 'us' thing."  
  
Buffy leaned in, and caught his bottom lip with her mouth, lightly sucking and nibbling on it. "We'll just tell them the truth, and they can take it as they come."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Spike," she exhaled, running her finger through his hair, "I'm done with keeping secrets."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
"Guys, I have an announcement."  
  
Buffy and Spike stood together in the doorway of the Scooby conference room, in front of all their friends. Her hair was now a light, summery blonde, and the two held hands, their fingers intertwined.  
  
"I've decided to stay in Sunnydale, so get rid of all this Phoenix bullshit. I'm Buffy, and that's the way it's staying. Also," she glanced quickly at Spike, "If you can't tell, this loser and I have decided to, well . . . we're in love."  
  
Shouts of laughter and joy erupted from the group as they all stood to congratulate their friends. As Xander and Giles both gave Buffy a huge hug, and Anya embraced Spike warmly, Willow started comforting a very emotional Tara.  
  
"So happy . . ." cried the new mother, her hormones raging.  
  
When all the excitement had subdued, they all took their seats around the conference table. Giles took off his glasses, wiped them, trying to figure out where to start.  
  
"This is rather complicated, so bear with me." Before returning his glasses to his face, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "When Tara told us this demon was called Pitatch, we assumed it was his name, so we've been spending our time looking for a demon with this title."  
  
"With no such luck," added Anya.  
  
Pointing at her, Giles nodded. "Exactly. I couldn't figure out why we weren't finding anything on this creature, as powerful we assume him to be.  
  
"Then, I had a brainstorm. I recalled a section a Watcher's journal dating 1785. During that time, there was an obscure war between demon clans, and they sectioned themselves as an army would, with generals and soldiers and such. Now, I thought, what if this was true in other demon wars, seeing as how they happened quite frequently during the Dark Ages.  
  
"I found it. During the Gothic Era, the 13th century or so, there was a great war between demon clans, now referred to as the 'Cumberlon Clef of England'. A great many demon species, vampires, dobytins, aloquely, fought for the sacred territory of Cumberlon. In this war was a small army of demons called miots.  
  
"Miots are a very rare species of demon. In the world today, fifty at the most survive. But they are quite powerful. They have the ability to manipulate their surroundings, alter the weather, powers beyond our comprehension. To receive this energy, they must consume . . ." he paused, looking down at his notes, "I'm afraid, the flesh of humans, one every month."  
  
Willow grimaced. "Not a good sign."  
  
"During the battle," continued the Watcher, "The clan was divided up in ranks. Leading the army was the general, given the title of Pitatch."  
  
"Now the plot thickens," sighed Spike.  
  
"There was no victor in the 'Clef of England'. A group of local human warlocks defended their territory and drove the demons away. As a warning, they held onto a demon of importance, apparently the Pitatch of the miots. He was frozen in time, then placed in a mystical barricade in Cumberlon, where no soul could reach him."  
  
"And that barricade has held up for all this time?" hoped Xander, wincing at the inevitable.  
  
"No," sighed Giles, "Unfortunately, the warlocks weren't counting on the barrier to be blasted apart by a demolition team excavating the area nine months ago. This Pitatch was released into the world, free to do what he pleases."  
  
Buffy sighed, rubbing her head with her hands. "So, why would he come here?"  
  
Looking at Tara, who returned his upsetting manner, Giles bit his lip. "Last night, Tara and I discussed this affair, exchanging information, and we have come to this conclusion."  
  
Grabbing Willow's hand, Tara started speaking very softly. "As Giles said, Pitatch needs to eat a human every month to retain his powers. When the warlocks froze him, he was still conscious. So, the need to feed was still with him. He went nearly seven centuries without feeding."  
  
"That's quite an amount to make up for, which he must do in order to gain his powers back," added Giles. "So, when he was awaken, he developed a plan so he could feed quickly. He's very intelligent and adapted to the 20th century quickly. He developed a . . ."  
  
"Machine." Tara cringed. "A machine that stops the heart activity of all human beings within a twenty-mile radius. A lot of dead humans, and he can eat without hassle. To power it, he needed an incredible energy supply. So he came here, and is using the Hellmouth's energy to make it work. That's why everything's been going weird lately, he's been taking its force."  
  
"What about the Flueruin demons?" asked Willow.  
  
"They're his helpers. Flueruin's are very strong physically, yet weak willed," answered Giles.  
  
"And all the baddies running away?" questioned Spike, clutching Buffy's hand.  
  
Tara shook her head. "The one who I took the information from knew some things, but not everything. I do know that Pitatch's plan to feed does not stop with us humans. I think he's found a way to use vampires and other demon species as food."  
  
"Super."  
  
Buffy ran her thumb along Spike's knuckles, not wanting to think about this horrible plot. "So, what should we do?"  
  
"We need to defeat Pitatch before he has a chance to use his machine, which I'm afraid, will be soon," Giles responded.  
  
Anya looked at the Watcher in amazement. "Duh!"  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Everything's just super shitty, ain't it?  
  
Xander glanced at his watch. 12:03. In half an hour, he was calling it a night. His night of patrol had been uneventful, and he wanted to go home. He would forget all about the apocalypse and spend the night screwing Anya's brains out.  
  
Happy thoughts, just keep thinking happy thoughts. Maybe I'll get her to wear that black silk number she wore for my birthday. And maybe I'll call in sick tomorrow and we'll do it again. After taking the kids to daycare, of course.  
  
Immersed in his fantasy, he began to speed through the park, wanting to get home as quickly as possible.  
  
Two minutes later, he came upon a familiar sight. The cave that he and Buffy and the gang once used to break into the Initiative.  
  
Why can't it be simple like that again? I just wanna battle demon-robot hybrids.  
  
Then, he heard a noise come from the depths of the caves. Hiding behind a rock, he kept his eyes on the opening, wanting to see the creature. Slowly it came out, a short, green, horned . . .  
  
Flueruin demon!  
  
"STOP!" he yelled, forgetting what danger it was in.  
  
Elyog did stop, and eyed the human carefully. Slowly, she recognized him as one of the people who helped the Slayer.  
  
Baring her sharp teeth, she lunged at the man, ready to tear his throat out for the Leader.  
  
Xander was surprised at the strength of the small demon, but was able to fight back. Two sharp blows to the jaw sent the creature backwards, but she responded with a kick to his groin.  
  
Falling to the ground in complete pain, Xander quickly searched for a weapon. He had none, except for the small wooden stake he held in his right hand.  
  
As she attempted a roundhouse kick to his head, he caught her leg and jabbed the stake into her flesh. She fell to the ground in tears, crying out in her demon language.  
  
Thinking the fight was over, Xander relaxed. But, the demon got up, removed the stake from her leg, and stabbed it into his left shoulder and again into his stomach. The man screamed in pain.  
  
Bending down to stab him in the throat, to kill as she was commanded, Elyog was stopped. The pain in her leg was so intense, she couldn't think. As the human lay bleeding to death, she crawled into the cave, searching quickly for someone to patch her up.  
  
Xander cried, the hot tears of pain and rage rolling down his face. He needed help, and he needed it fast. Ignoring the pain, he stood, then ran as fast as he could home. 


	15. Le Temps Passe Vite

Disclaimer: There are some pretty fucking weird phenomenons that occur in the world. Take something that happened to my cousin a while ago. He was flying in a plane, about a thousand miles above Arizona, when the pilot gets on the intercom, saying that the engines have all failed and they'll have to make a crash landing in the desert. Everyone starts panicking. So, he starts thinking about life, and things he will never get to do again. Then he says to himself, "What the hell?", pulls out his dick, and starts masturbating. The guy next to him, Joss Whedon, the guy who wrote Buffy the Vampire Slayer, sees him doing it, and starts doing it himself. People around them start watching, and then they pull out their dicks or whatever, and start jerking off right there in the cabin. It's this whole self- pleasure-fest right in this plane that will crash land in seconds, killing everyone. But, then the captain gets back on the intercom and says that the engines have started up, so they'll all live. Everyone stops, puts their piece away, and they never mention it again.  
  
Rating: R- the world is one big r-rating (just thought I'd mention that)  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: It keeps getting closer to the end. To answer your questions, there will be three more chapters (after this one) and an epilogue. Don't worry if I don't get to 100 by the end. I will just write a little ficlet to clear out my head, then start in on the sequel. And it will be an ok one, seeing as how sometimes sequels suck (watch BTTF 2 if you don't believe me). Ahhh, who am I kidding, this is just shameless self- promotion. I love it, almost as much as I love guys! Kisses and hugs, and shouts of "Fuck you" from Anyanka Faith.  
  
PS: Isn't Kevin Smith a genius? Who hoo! I love Brodie, he kicks ass. That whole disclaimer was, again, taken from Kevin Smith's movie Mallrats. But, if you're gonna watch it, see Clerks first. Then watch the rest of 'em! Then, go out cow tipping! I don't know why, just do it!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Fifteen- Le Temps Passe Vite  
  
"This is such shit!" Buffy screamed, her green eyes glowing with rage.  
  
"Shh, please," pleaded Olivia, motioning her head towards Derek. A look of apology formed on the blonde's face, but the anger was still there.  
  
Buffy was spending the night at Spike's place when he got a call. It was Anya.  
  
"God," she cried, her voice shaken and breathless, "Please come here! I don't know what to do! It's Xander, he's . . . hurt!"  
  
Immediately, they called up Giles and Olivia, and asked if the couple could pick them up on their way to the Harris residence.  
  
They were now in Giles' minivan, him and Olivia sitting in the front, Spike and Buffy sitting behind, little Derek between them in his car seat.  
  
"Please, Buffy," Giles calmly stated, although he was hopping mad internally, "We have to remain calm until we find out what happened, then plan a course of action."  
  
"Sure." Spike laughed sarcastically. "You do that. I'm gonna find the soddin' shit, sorry Olivia, that did this to my pal and kill 'em!" Glancing at Buffy, he grinned evilly. "You with me pet?"  
  
Before Buffy could answer, Olivia's whipped her head around and glared at the two.  
  
"You will not do ANYTHING! When we get to the house, you two must remain calm for Anya's sake! No going off and killing! Am I clearly understood!"  
  
The shocked blondes nodded.  
  
They pulled up to the house just as Willow and Tara did in their car. Running up the steps, children bouncing in their parents' arms, they met a pale Anya at the front door.  
  
"He's in the kitchen . . ." she trailed off, eyes staring blankly at the ground.  
  
They ran into the kitchen, Olivia staying back to help Anya collect herself.  
  
It was an awful sight. Xander lay on the floor, white and clammy, blood from his wounds covering his shirt and the floor.  
  
"Hey," he whispered, his lips as pale as his skin, "You guys wanna beer?"  
  
Kneeling down next to her best friend, Buffy patted his arm.  
  
"You need to go to a hospital Xander."  
  
"Nope," he said firmly, his eyes slightly glazed, "Didn't crawl all the way here just to die at the hospital."  
  
Taken aback by the statement, Buffy felt tears come to her eyes. "Xander, you're not going to . . ."  
  
"Buffster, I'm not going."  
  
At that moment, Olivia brought a weeping Anya into the kitchen. Giles and Spike started arguing over if they were going to make Xander go. Laila, cradled by Tara, started to cry, and Derek followed suit. If things couldn't have been worse, a half-asleep Gillian pushed the swinging door open.  
  
"Wha's wrong?" She rubbed her eyes, then saw her dad lying on the floor. "NO! DADDY, NO!" Running to her father, she threw her arms around his neck.  
  
It was too much, way too much . . .  
  
"SHUT UP!" Buffy screamed, silencing every single person in the room. "If Xander doesn't want to go to the hospital, we can't make him!"  
  
"Buff . . ." Giles started to argue.  
  
"Giles, please shut up!" She stood, removing her coat. "Olivia, can you take the kids upstairs and put a movie on?" Nodding, Olivia took Laila in her arms, grabbed Derek's hand, and managed to pull Gillian off of her father. After they left, Buffy looked at Spike. "You must have some extra blood around here." He nodded. "Try to find some O-positive." He ran to the fridge, as she walked over to Giles. "Sorry about the whole 'shut up' thing, but can you run and find a First-Aid kit? And some things that could be used as a transfusion thingy?" Giving her a sad smile, he ran out of the kitchen. "Willow, Tara?" she asked the two Wiccans, "Can you guys do a spell that could close up his wounds, or help him in some way?"  
  
"Y-yeah," Tara bit her lip. "I can do a healing spell. It won't get rid of the wounds, but it will stop the bleeding, and patch up any organs that have been hit."  
  
"Fine." Buffy then noticed Anya, who was crying at the door. "Willow," she whispered to the redhead, "Could you boil some water? I'm sure we'll need it for something, but right now, Anya needs some tea." Leaning in closer, she spoke softly in Willow's ear. "Put something in it that will 'calm her'."  
  
Everyone set about his or her work. Spike came back from the fridge with three packets of blood. Willow took Anya upstairs to, who was now sleepy from the "tea". Tara performed the spell quickly, chanting burning incense around Xander. Giles ran in minutes later, the First-Aid kit in his arms.  
  
"It's a very elaborate kit," he explained, opening the large white case, "It actually comes with a crude blood transfusion device."  
  
Finishing the spell, Tara backed away, letting Giles set up the transfusion device and stick the needle into Xander's right arm. Then, he attached one packet of blood to it, and let it drain into the injured man's veins. Buffy, Spike, and Tara dressed his wounds.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
By 2 o'clock in the afternoon, Xander had returned to a slightly normal color, and lay on the sofa in the living room, drinking a glass of water.  
  
"Thought I was done for," he sighed, smiling as Anya stroked his head. She had just woken up from an unusually peaceful sleep.  
  
The group was all seated with the couple in the dim room, shades closed for Spike.  
  
"What happened Xander?" Giles leaned against the fireplace, clearly tired.  
  
Shrugging his shoulders, Xander sighed. "Was on patrol in the park and found a Flueruin demon coming out of the old Initiative caves. I spooked it, it attacked me, I staked it in the leg, it staked me in the chest and stomach, it ran away, then I crawled home."  
  
"That's not like Flueruins," Spike exclaimed, on an armchair with Buffy in his lap, "They don't attack . . ."  
  
"That theory can go to fucking hell!" Tara blurted out, then covered her mouth, very shocked.  
  
Snickering at the brunette, Spike continued. " . . . Attack except when made to, or when they've been told to."  
  
"Pitatch," sighed Anya and Willow simultaneously.  
  
Giles sat down near his wife, and began to rub her back. "What should we plan on doing?"  
  
All sat in silence, thinking. Then Buffy got up from Spike, and walked to Giles' previous place.  
  
"At sundown, I'm going to find this Pitatch, and I'm going to kill him."  
  
"Buffy," Giles sighed, removing his glasses, "I don't think . . ."  
  
"Giles," she looked at her Watcher, "We should have done it when he tried to have Tara killed. But, we didn't know where he was. Now we do. Xander says he saw one of those minion-guys come out of the old Initiative headquarters, so that's where he must be. It makes perfect sense." Walking to the weapon chest, she pulled out a large, silver battle-axe. "He's weak right now, so it won't be that hard to kill him." She quietly fingered the blade. "And I'll go alone."  
  
Xander sat up, ignoring the agonizing pain in his torso. "Like hell you will!"  
  
Buffy set the axe down and pulled a huge knife from the chest. "He's hurt too many of my friends, and he'll try again. It's between me and him."  
  
Getting up from the couch and walking to Buffy, Spike took the knife from her.  
  
"And me. I won't let you go alone."  
  
"Please, Spike . . ."  
  
He softly brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "Don't argue, please." Leaning in, his face millimeters away from his, he whispered, "If you won't let me, I'll follow you." With a small smile, he kissed her. "Besides," he added, pulling away, "I always love a good spot of violence."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
6:02.  
  
Seconds ago, the sun had gone down, so it was safe for Spike to be out. He and Buffy hugged their friends goodbye, then walked down Revello Drive. It was time for battle.  
  
Buffy had borrowed Xander's car earlier to pick up necessities from her motel room, Giles' home, and Spike's crypt. She came back with weapons, explosives, and clothes.  
  
The long gray coat Buffy was wearing hid her weapons: the battle-axe, three stakes, a crossbow, and a small dagger. Also, her coat pocket held the three grenades from Giles' home, something he hadn't mentioned owning before.  
  
Spike wore his old leather trenchcoat. He made sure Buffy brought it for him. There was a sense of familiarity with his coat, and he needed the comfort. It covered the knife, smaller battle-axe, set of throwing stars, and metal pole he was carrying.  
  
They walked, hand in hand, through the streets. As every minute passed, it got darker, and they got closer to the cave.  
  
"You ok, luv?" asked the vampire.  
  
"Yeah, I'm ok. You?" Her hair tied in back, but she kept brushing stray locks out of her face.  
  
He needed a cigarette. He hadn't smoked in a while, but he needed one now. "Scared shitless. But, I'll get over it."  
  
Grinning timidly, she gripped his hand tighter.  
  
He stared down at the blonde as they walked. "That the shirt I gave you?"  
  
The light blue material was showing through the opening of her coat. "Yeah, thought it was kinda appropriate."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Donno, that's the way it always is."  
  
Bending down, Spike kissed the top of her head. Always moving closer to the cave.  
  
"Do you have a plan?" He hated asking all these questions, but it kept his mind off the task at hand.  
  
Her mind was swimming, so many emotions. Fear for her, hatred for her enemy, love for Spike.  
  
"I'm going in there, and killing him."  
  
"You stole my plan, you silly bint," he teased. She responded by kissing him soundly on the mouth.  
  
6:28.  
  
Memories flooded as they came to the cave entrance, remembering the times they had to pass through this opening. Sometimes together, sometimes apart, always for a different reason. And now, possibly at the point of death, they entered, sharing a common goal.  
  
That's life, isn't it?  
  
As he shifted into game face, Spike could see through the darkened interior. He walked ahead, guiding Buffy through the pitch-black space. As they went further in, his sharp hearing detected noises from inside. Someone was working.  
  
"Spike," she whispered. As long as he had know her, she had always been confident. But now, she sounded terrified. "We need to kill Pitatch. One of us must do it. If, for some reason, I can't . . . it's up to you."  
  
That was a thought that sickened him.  
  
If she didn't make it, I'd . . .  
  
"Yeah, don't worry luv. And you do the same for me."  
  
Her breath caught in her throat.  
  
No, he'll make it, and we'll be fine.  
  
Turning a corner, they saw a light, shining through the darkness. It was faint, far away, but it was a light.  
  
"'K pet, here we go."  
  
As he started to remove the knife from his coat, he heard something. Footsteps behind him.  
  
Probably Buffy, she . . .  
  
Her hand left his. The sound of metal hitting bone echoed through the hollow cave. Turning, he tried to discover the source, but was hit squarely on the nose by something hard. He fell on his knees, and it hit again. He tried to fight back, but something snapped on his wrists, and he was unable to bring his hands out to defend himself.  
  
It kept hitting. Through the sound of his nose being broken, he heard Buffy scream. She wasn't fighting back either. Figures kept weaving in and out of the darkness. It was a cacophony of pain and confusion. And she was hurting.  
  
"BUFFY!" With every ounce of strength, he tried to break his restraints, but something cold and hard hit him from behind, and the world went black. 


	16. Clearer View

Disclaimer: My overwhelming sense of freedom is hindered when he grabs my arm, pulling me back to him. "Please don't leave me," he begs, sadness in his eyes. But no, the long road calls to me. "Let me go," I request, shaking away from his grip. "No," he cries as I start to walk away, "I'm sorry for what I did! I know that I took you for granted, and that I wasn't there when you needed me. But I've changed, I'm a better person now." Guys just don't get it. "Listen, Joss Whedon." I turn, looking at him for the last time. "I know you created Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I know that you let me borrow your characters for my first fan fiction, but that doesn't matter. You're still the same jerk I've known for years. You'll never change. You want me badly because you cannot have me."  
  
Rating: R- what would the world be like if there wasn't sin? Boring!  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: I know I've been really good about updating lately, but my inspiration left me, and I was lost. But, it found me. I'm ready to finish the story, and ready to start up the new one. Although I'll probably say this on the last chapter (three away!), I just wanted to thank you for all your support. I love reading fan fiction, and it makes me happy to know that some of you out their like my first attempt. Have a happy Massacre-the- Innocent-Turkey Day (thanksgiving). I know I will. I have Sum 41 tickets!  
  
PS: I've got to find some new disclaimer subjects. I'm always stealing from Kevin Smith movies. Well, this one isn't from his movies. This one is my own interpretation of my favorite song, "Sunday Morning", from the greatest band in the world, No Doubt. I don't care if I'm lame.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Sixteen- Clearer View  
  
"Shh, I think they're waking up."  
  
"Go get the Leader."  
  
Whispers. Whispers everywhere. Voices in his head talking. Pain. Pain everywhere. Every joint and muscle.  
  
Spike opened his heavy eyelids, and was faced with a nightmare.  
  
He was back in the Initiative. In the pit of the headquarters, in one of the demon containment cells.  
  
It was all to familiar, the cold linoleum floor, the sterile white walls. The monsters that placed him in this cell years ago tinkered with his head, put the chip in. Were they back to play with more of his brain?  
  
Looking around, his confused eyes started noticing the little things. Like the fact there was no electricity. The whole place was lit by torches. And the glass barrier that once held the demons in was gone, replaced by two Fleuruin demons guarding the doors. Something was off.  
  
Suddenly, he remembered all. He had been with Buffy, searching for Pitatch. Then, something, or some things, snuck up behind them. He was hit by something hard, and Buffy started screaming.  
  
Buffy!  
  
Spike tried to leap up, but found himself restrained, his hands and feet bound together by silver chains. He tried to break them, but they held strong as he pulled.  
  
"They've been put under an indestructibility spell," a low voice laughed, "Twenty vampires couldn't break they chains."  
  
It was coming from the open area of the cell. Spike looked up and saw the owner of the voice, a tall, tan demon wearing a long, red cloak.  
  
The demon started to laugh as Spike growled. "Isn't this a rather sad ending for a legend of the vampire world?" asked the demon, clearly enjoying the spectacle. "Chained up like a wild animal."  
  
Spike lunged at the demon, but two of the guards rushed forward and hit him back with their weapons, defective tazers used by the Initiative. Pain shot through his body, and he was on his side.  
  
"Now," The tall demon walked forward and kicked the vampire in the stomach, laughing as he cried. "That's not a proper thing to do. You don't want to learn your lesson like the Slayer did, do you?"  
  
Fear shot through Spike's stomach as the demon stepped aside, revealing a blood-soaked and bruised Buffy in the opposite cell. Her eyes met his, and she gave him a weak and tired smile.  
  
"What do you want?" whispered the horrified vampire, his focus still on his love.  
  
"I believe you already know that. The Watcher told you that yesterday."  
  
Glancing up, Spike stared at the demon. "Who are you?" he asked, angrier. But he knew, and the demon knew, he had lost the will to fight.  
  
"Again, you already know that."  
  
He spit out the word, as if it were made of poison. "Pitatch."  
  
"Correct." Sending the guards away, Pitatch bent down so that he could speak closely to the vampire. "I'm very surprised at you, William. You should have learned everything weeks ago. But from what I've heard, you've always been a slow study." He rubbed his nose in thought. "My men have been following you and your friends for months. We know where you live, what you eat, what you watch on TV. Everything."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"When I arrived here, I learned that you all were once allies of the Slayer. It was my theory that you might call on her if you knew my plans, which you did, only it's too late. The machine will be fully functional in a few days, and your attempts to, yet again, save the world have been in vain." He lifted his hand to pat Spike on the head, but it was immediately pushed away. "Have no fear," he said with a smile, "Your death will be quick. You have done nothing to harm me."  
  
Smiling, he left the cell, then went into Buffy's. As he came in, she recoiled. For the past hour, the guards had beaten her for trying to break free.  
  
Pitatch's attitude changed. He looked down on the blonde with a fierce air. "I can't say that your death will be as quick as your boyfriend's."  
  
"What did I ever do to you?" she asked in a small voice filled with terror.  
  
"It's not what you did. I have no problem with you personally. It's the Slayer I loathe." He kneeled next to Buffy, taking a lock of her hair in his hand. "Did you know that I was captured by a Slayer? Barely anyone living knows it. She hunted me down after my troops were defeated, and brought me to the warlocks. I spent seven centuries frozen due to your sisterhood," he growled, stroking her hair while talking, "And I have no worries about taking it out on her descendants." Quickly, he ripped the lock of hair out of her head. As she yelled in pain, he stood, approaching the door. "That was just the beginning. You can't imagine what you are going to suffer. See him," he pointed at Spike, "He's going to die in the same manner as your friends. But, you will be alive to witness all their deaths. Then I'll start with you."  
  
Throwing her hair on the ground in disgust, he left the pit.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
"Spike?" Buffy asked after a while.  
  
"What?" He sounded far away, lost in thought.  
  
Her back was hurting, so she scooted backwards to lean against the wall. "How did we screw up?"  
  
Halfheartedly, he chuckled. "They followed us, the Fleuruin demons. We've been so preoccupied that we didn't sense them. They followed us into the cave, then attacked us when we least suspected it. Plain and simple."  
  
It was all too unreal, like a bad dream.  
  
"I'm not ready to die," she whispered.  
  
Lifting his head, he stared at the woman he loved. "No one ever is, luv."  
  
Shaking her head, she stood. "No, I'm NOT ready to die. It's not my time." Suddenly, she began to kick the wall as hard as she could. "I'm not ready!" she screamed, "I'm not fucking ready!"  
  
"What are you doing pet?" asked an amazed Spike.  
  
Ignoring him, she continued, screaming louder. "I'M NOT READY, YOU STUPID BASTARDS! I'M NOT GOD-DAMNED READY!"  
  
A shorter, female Flueruin ran to her cell entrance, holding a broken tazer.  
  
"Stop it, Slayer," she commanded, hitting the girl with all her force.  
  
Buffy fell to the ground, her rib possibly broken. The demon turned to exit.  
  
"Stop!" yelled the blonde, and the demon complied. "Please don't leave."  
  
"What do you want?" asked the demon, turning.  
  
An idea popped in her head. Clearing her throat, Buffy began to speak softly. "What's your name?"  
  
Taking a step back, the demon eyed her suspiciously. "Is this some kind of joke?"  
  
"No, it's not."  
  
There was a pause. "Elyog. My name is Elyog."  
  
"That's a nice name," said the Slayer genuinely. "Where did you live before your Leader came?"  
  
She paused for a moment, assessing if this was a trick. "In the woods, right behind the big hill."  
  
"Did you live with your family?"  
  
"Yes, I did."  
  
Buffy sat up, rubbing her side. "We're you happier?"  
  
Elyog shook her head. "There was chaos before the Leader came." It was a programmed answer.  
  
"No Elyog, truthfully. We're you happy?"  
  
Searching for alternative words, Elyog could only say the truth. "Yes. My mother used to take my siblings and I out on clear nights to show us the stars. And, we would have these great feasts . . ." Her eyes wandered away.  
  
Speaking louder, Buffy regained her focus. "Elyog, when I was the Slayer in Sunnydale, I knew all about your clan. I knew that they were peaceful and wouldn't harm anyone. But, your Leader came in and changed you. You fight, you kill, and right now, you're working to destroy an entire race."  
  
"That's the way life is when you wage war," sighed Elyog, shrugging her shoulders.  
  
"No," Buffy shook her head; "It's not. There is no war to wage. He's going to kill my friends, my family. And do you think he's going to stop there? When all of humanity is dead, he'll look for another food source. Who's to say it won't be you next? Your friends, your family." She looked away, a tear sprouting in her eyes. "I've missed my family. I just got back. I'm not ready to say goodbye."  
  
The demon stood frozen, emotionless.  
  
"Guards," she yelled at the two demons by the door.  
  
Buffy's heart fell into her stomach.  
  
"Remove the prisoners' chains."  
  
Without another word, Elyog stepped back and let the guards come through. A chant was uttered, and her hands were free. Turning, they entered Spike's cell and did the same.  
  
He leapt up, and Buffy ran to him. Like magnets, their lips found each other, and were soon in a passionate kiss.  
  
As the two kissed, Elyog turned to the guards.  
  
"Run, run to the forest," she commanded, "If you see anyone, tell them the Leader orders them to go home. Once you get there, wait for me." Obeying the orders of the highest-ranking Flueruin, the guards put down their weapons and ran.  
  
She spun around to address the couple, interrupting their embrace.  
  
"I'm going to send as many of the followers as I can back home. They'll do whatever I say. But some are with the Leader at this moment. You'll have to go through them to get the Leader."  
  
"Where is he," asked Spike.  
  
"Up through the main corridor, where the vehicles were once stored. It's where the machine is."  
  
Reaching through her coat to pull out her battle-axe, Buffy discovered it was gone. "Where are our weapons?"  
  
"On a table at the top of the steps." Giving the girl a quick handshake, Elyog began to run in another direction. She stopped at the bottom of the other stairs. "I hope you succeed."  
  
"Thank you very much."  
  
The two watched the demon run up the stairs, then disappear into the darkness. His hand finding hers, Spike began to feel his confidence rise. "Well luv, that was a bit of a obstacle, but now we're back on the case."  
  
"Don't even start," warned the Slayer, "This is the point where everything is going to matter."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Chili from the can was not one of her favorite foods, but Gillian choked it down. It was her Daddy's favorite food, and Mommy was trying to make him comfortable.  
  
After her Uncle Billy and new Auntie Buffy left, all her other Aunties and Uncles stayed until dinnertime, then went home. She could sense that they were all upset about something.  
  
"Jilly, don't play with your food," ordered Anya, who was sitting next to Xander on the sofa. Dinner was in the living room because Daddy was too hurt to move.  
  
She still couldn't get that picture out of her head. Daddy, on the ground, a lot of blood, Mommy crying.  
  
Ryan started to fuss, so Anya took him out of his playpen to feed him. Gillian envied her little brother's sense of happiness. The baby had no idea what was going on.  
  
For a four-year-old, she had thoughts that no child should have. She could tell whenever there wasn't something said. The auras of the people gave it away, as did the energy of the environment. And they all pretended everything was ok, just because of the children.  
  
Xander started to rub Anya's leg sensuously. In a second, Gillian knew she would be having an early bedtime. This wasn't right. Her Daddy was hurting badly, but he was going to risk it all to "wrestle" with Mommy.  
  
Sighing, Gillian stabbed her fork into the chili. Anya started to giggle, but when Gillian looked at her, the lights had gone dark. Her home disappeared, along with her dinner and family.  
  
She was in a new place, a big warehouse. Funny creatures were all running to the exits.  
  
The lights went out again, and she was in a smaller room in the warehouse. Two people ran by her, not noticing her. It was her Uncle Billy and Auntie Buffy. They were sneaking up behind a tall man with tan skin.  
  
A flash filled the room. Auntie Buffy was fighting two of the funny looking creatures, while Uncle Billy was hitting the tall man.  
  
Another flash. The tall man had her Uncle Billy pinned to the ground, but Auntie Buffy came up and threw the man to the ground.  
  
The light began to fade again, but she could still hear everything. Kicking and punching and hitting. But the sounds stopped as Auntie Buffy screamed and Uncle Billy yelled.  
  
With a jolt, Gillian opened her eyes. She was back home, lying on the ground, Anya shaking her as Xander watched with horror.  
  
"Thank God," moaned her father, "She's come out of it." He crouched, ignoring the pain in his body. "What happened sweetie?"  
  
Gillian started to cry. She was just too young to deal with this knowledge.  
  
"Someone isn't coming home."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Sharp pieces of metal had always been a comfort to him. Hell, his love of them gave him his nickname. And once again, the cold steel felt like an old friend.  
  
Things were starting to go right. He and Buffy were free, they had their weapons, and they were ready to kill Pitatch.  
  
Careful as to not make the same mistake as earlier, they ran through the old Initiative. Buffy knew where the old auto storage was, and was leading the way. With every step, he knew she was planning what to do.  
  
Seconds later, they stood in front of the door. Most of the Flueruin demons had fled, following the orders. But, peaking through the glass in the door, Spike could see that at least thirty remained.  
  
"Got a lot to deal with luv," he commented, as Buffy got her axe out, swinging it for practice. He got out his knife, gripping it tightly in his hands.  
  
"One of us will have to kill Pitatch, the other needs to destroy the machine so it can never be used." She spun in a small circle, swinging the axe over her head.  
  
"I've got the demon, you've got the machine."  
  
Stopping, she put her hands on her hips in defiance. "Like hell you do."  
  
Grinning, he gave her a soft kiss. "If the bloody machine gets on fire, I'm a goner. You have the incredible ability to not die if fire touches you."  
  
Laughing softly, Buffy hugged Spike.  
  
This might be our last one.  
  
"Alright, let's go." 


	17. Battle

Disclaimer: The cold wind bites through my thin jacket as I search my purse. Where the fuck is my keys? My friends are no help, either. "Come the fuck on, Lily!" screams Tom from the car. I'm about to scream back, but I find them underneath my wallet. As I pull them out, a new voice comes up from behind me. "Lily?" he asks. I turn. Mark Darcy is standing in the street, sheepishly looking at me. "What are you doing here?" I ask. The bastard had left for New York weeks ago. "Well," he starts, shoving his hands into his pockets, "I'm back because I remembered something." "What's that?" He grins at my question and comes up to me. "I remembered I forgot I have a mission," he states, his voice changing into a robotic monotone, "I was sent back twenty years in the future by Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Lord of the Enslaved World, to kill you. It is my mission to destroy Lilith in her youth, the one person who stands a chance of defeating his Supremeness." Out of his trench coat, he pulls out a sawed- off rifle. Fuck!  
  
Rating: R- guess why? Lots and lots of violence! Life is good!  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: And we reach the climax! No, not THAT climax, you sick fucks. Here is the high point of the story. Now, a warning: this is the first time I've ever attempted to write a battle scene. I watch a lot of action movies, so I hope that will make up for it. Another warning: see Gillian's prophecy from the last chapter. It's all happening. Everything. No turning back now. I'm about to risk fire and brimstone from Mountain William, but it's worth it. And if you don't get the ending, wait until tomorrow. I love you all, and hope that you will love my decisions.  
  
PS: Did I just screw with that disclaimer, or what. At first, you think it's from the movie version of Bridget Jones's diary, but then I switch to a weirded out version of the movie Terminator. God, what the hell am I smoking? Oh yeah, pot! (kidding)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Seventeen- Battle  
  
It was a large metal door; painted a sterile white, just like the halls. Yet it opened without a noise, allowing Buffy and Spike to slip into the room undetected.  
  
Both stood near the entrance, taking in their surroundings. The room was large, about 200 feet in length, enough space to hold a small fleet of vehicles. Chain link fences, stretching from floor to ceiling, divided the room into smaller sections. Or at least they would have. The fences had been taken down, save one. It caged the machine.  
  
At a first glance, there wasn't anything to fear. Twenty feet square, painted black, with small tubes and hoses protruding out of the box. But, every so often, the hoses would be filled with light, brilliant blue and white electricity traveling into the box. The Hellmouth's energy. When the machine drank the energy, the lights would dim, and a bolt of lightning would scream out of the box, singeing the fence.  
  
In front of the barrier was a small platform, a work area. Pitatch, with his back turned to the door, was examining the items on the tables. Some helpers stood by, apparently answering the questions asked by their master. At the moment, he was examining a thin tube of blue gel.  
  
The other Flueruins congregated on the ground floor, weapons held in the ready position. But all eyes were on Pitatch, no one taking notice of the human and vampire.  
  
Getting Buffy's attention, Spike made a stabbing motion with his hands, held up two fingers, and moved them in opposite circular directions. Finally, he pointed at himself and Pitatch, then at her and the machine. It was his plan. They would kill the guards first, then each would take care of their task.  
  
Gripping his knife in his right hand, Spike crept up behind a guard. Buffy did the same to another guard, raising the axe above her head.  
  
The guard took no notice of Spike until the vampire's hand covered his mouth. As he tried to scream, Spike raised the knife and slid it along his throat, cutting the flesh. The demon went limp, and was thrown to the ground.  
  
Nearly three feet away from her guard, Buffy held the axe over her head. Then she swung, sending the cold steel into the minion's skull with a wet thud.  
  
"GUARDS!" Pitatch spun around and pointed in the direction of the intruders.  
  
A smaller guard rushed Spike, but Spike buried the knife into its stomach. In a quick motion, he pulled the metal pole out of his coat.  
  
Three demons surrounding her, Buffy swung the axe in wide circles, lopping off the head of two. The third one kicked the axe out of her hands, sending it across the room. She responded by kicking him squarely in the chest, then sliding on her knees to the axe. The guard followed, but she picked up her weapon and swung upwards, lodging it in his throat and jaw.  
  
Using a broken tazer as a pole, a demon began to spar with Spike. The guard blocked all of Spike's attempted hits. Then Spike tried to hit the demon in the torso, leaving his legs exposed. The demon blocked the vampire's hit, then swung his weapon at Spike's legs, sending him to the ground. Before the demon could do anything else, Spike quickly raised his pole and speared the demon, sending it straight through his chest.  
  
Four guards lay dead at Buffy's feet, and a fifth ran around the room, her axe stuck in his back. Taking out her crossbow, she took aim and sent an arrow right in the eyes of a demon. Another guard snuck up to her left, and using the tazer as a bayonet, ripped Buffy's arm. Buffy turned, taking her dagger out, then stabbed it in the demon's chest.  
  
Removing his knife from a corpse, Spike ran his eyes along the room. At least twenty of the guards were dead, the rest approaching Buffy. Knowing she could take care of herself, he turned and leapt onto Pitatch's platform.  
  
Grinning, Pitatch removed a stake from the table and gripped it in his hands. "Is this the point where you try to kill me?" he asked.  
  
"No," growled Spike, taking his axe out of his coat, "This is the point where I kick your ass."  
  
Charging, Spike swung the axe at the demon, but he was quick and jumped out of the way. Spike tried again, but he only hit air. Pitatch took the opportunity to kick the axe out of the vampire's hands. Recovering, Spike roundhouse kicked him in the torso, then backhanded him across the face. But he left his arm out too long, and Pitatch was able to grab it and flip him to the ground. As Spike head smacked into the ground, Pitatch jumped on his legs, pinning them to the ground. Slowly, he bent down, raising the stake above his head.  
  
Buffy had just recovered her axe, and turned to face any new attackers, when she saw Pitatch standing over Spike, ready to stake. She ran up behind the demon, hopped onto the platform, and did a jump-kick to his back, sending him sliding across the platform.  
  
Spike leapt onto his feet, and ran to Buffy. "You ok pet?" he asked, noticing the deep cut along her arm.  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle."  
  
Quickly kissing her, he turned her in the direction of the cage. "Go destroy that fucking machine!"  
  
As she ran off, Spike turned his attention to Pitatch, rising from the ground. Surprisingly, he was laughing.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
Picking up the stake, Pitatch grinned. "You'll understand in a few minutes."  
  
Buffy ran into the cage. At first, she just stared at the machine, unsure of how to destroy it. Every time she got close, a bolt of lightning would escape from the metal frame.  
  
Lost in thought, she didn't see three demons emerge out from the shadows. Two crept up behind Spike, while another went in her direction. She didn't notice until he had shut the door and locked her in.  
  
"What the fuck . . ." she turned at the clicking sound of the lock. On the other side of the now closed door, the demon smiled, held out the key for the lock, and threw it across the room.  
  
Panicked, she looked in Spike's direction. He was staring down Pitatch, not noticing the two guards quickly approaching him.  
  
"SPIKE! WATCH YOUR BACK!"  
  
Too late. As he turned, the guards grabbed his arms, pulled them behind his back, and chained them together.  
  
"SHIT!" he screamed, desperately trying to pull his arms apart.  
  
Pitatch came up to him. "That's what's so funny. Your pathetic ability to sense an enemy sneaking up on you." Pointing at the ground, the guards moved him into a position so that Spike now faced Buffy, fear showing through his face.  
  
"Now William," Pitatch cackled, "You should be honored to know that you will be the first one to test my new invention." He held up his hand, revealing a stake. Except, this one was painted black. "I've been having my laborers work on this for months now, trying hard to figure out this problem: How do you make a vampire edible?" He started to advance, and Spike tried hard to shake the guards off. But, they were strong and held on. "Make a vampire edible. Almost like a riddle. I must say, your kindred aren't very tasty. Dead, rotting flesh is hardly appeasing. But, they said they found a way." He raised the stake, two feet from the vampire. "Let's see if it works."  
  
Buffy screamed as the stake plunged into his chest. Spike's eyes grew wide, and he fell over the edge of the platform. She heard him land, then saw a cloud of dust billow from the ground.  
  
An evil grin growing on his face, Pitatch turned his attention to the Slayer. She grasped the door, tears streaming down her face.  
  
"Leave her there," he ordered the guards, then started to make his way out of the room. But he stopped when he heard the cage door sailed past his head, hitting the wall and crumpling onto the floor.  
  
"Get the fuck back here!"  
  
Timidly, he turned. She stood in the cage doorway, fists and jaw clenched in rage.  
  
"You aren't going to leave me! If you wanna kill me, do it now!"  
  
Pitatch turned to the demons by his side. "Kill her now," he ordered.  
  
They started to approach her. But she glared at the guards, her eyes daring them to touch her. They froze, looked at each other, then dropped the tazers and ran out of the room.  
  
Staring helplessly at the exit door, Pitatch turned back to Buffy. She flipped onto the platform.  
  
"Get up here!"  
  
Pitatch slowly walked onto the platform.  
  
"Slayer . . ." he began.  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
He did.  
  
"Look at you!" she laughed. "Without your powers or your guards, you're just a helpless demon with a machine." He watched Buffy plunge her hand into her coat pocket. "Wait," she stopped, pulling out a grenade, "Let's see if we can take the machine part away." Her other hand pulled out the pin, and she tossed the grenade into the cage behind her. Both stood their ground, not moving. Then Pitatch watched in horror as his machine burst into a thousand pieces. He went to the ground, arms covering his head for protection.  
  
Sounds of metal hitting the ground echoed through the room. A large fire now burned where the machine had been. Buffy's back was cut with debris shards, little pieces of metal embedded in her skin, but she wasn't even hindered.  
  
Pitatch was still cowering, and he didn't move as she walked up to him and grabbed his forearm. With both hands, she snapped his arm, and the broken bone cut through the skin. He screamed, but she ignored it, grabbing his other arm and flipping him onto his back.  
  
"I want to tell you something my friend Anya told me," she said, crouching on the demon's stomach. Both of her hands traveled to his neck as he stared, paralyzed with fear. " 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.' "  
  
Her body pinning his to the ground, she gripped his neck, then with her Slayer strength, pulled off Pitatch's head.  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
Minutes passed as she stayed in that position. It felt like she had been watching someone else, like it was a movie. But, she looked into the face of the decapitated demon, and realized it was all true.  
  
The machine was destroyed.  
  
Pitatch was dead.  
  
Her friends were safe.  
  
Spike was dead.  
  
Tossing the head away, Buffy began to bawl. Spike was dead. It made her sick with sorrow to think that.  
  
As she cried, the cut on her arm began to hurt. Through her tears, Buffy examined the wound. It was very deep, and she had lost some blood. And her back was probably cut to hell. She would have to go to the hospital. Quickly.  
  
Pushing the body aside, she spotted her axe, teetering on the edge of the platform. Wiping the tears away, she walked over to pick it up. But, as she reached her hand down, it fell to the floor.  
  
"Fuck." Her voice cracked as she leaned over the edge to retrieve it. It was lying on top of a body.  
  
She blinked her eyes rapidly when she realized it was not just a body.  
  
It was Spike's.  
  
Buffy shot up.  
  
"WHAT THE HELL?!" 


	18. Casualties of Battle

Disclaimer: From nowhere, a symphony begins to play. This must be the point in life where all the blood, sweat, and tears are justified. The set of doors behind me slams open, and I turn. It's Joss; his tuxedo rumpled and tie hanging down from his neck. Slowly, he approaches me as I sit outside on the steps of the church. "Honey, are you going in?" he asks, slightly scared. Reaching up, I pull my veil off. It cost my parent about three thousand dollars for this veil, but it doesn't matter right now. "No, Joss, I'm not." A weight pressing down on my heart begins to break away. Sitting down beside me, Joss takes my hand. "Why," he questions, a cloud of tears building in his eyes. "I can't pretend anymore," I answer, removing the eight hundred dollar elbow length gloves from my hands, "Joss Whedon, you are the most brilliant television show creator ever. I loved writing fan fiction based on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But, I don't love you." My taxi pulls up, and I stand, pulling off my gorgeous engagement ring. "I have to be with the one I love," I say, placing the ring in his hand. Gathering my dress, I walk down the steps to the taxi. "Wait!" he calls from the steps, "Who is this other person?" Turning, I smile softly. "That's a whole different story."  
  
Rating: R- I am simply a product of the perverted world.  
  
Summary: Buffy, after running away from Sunnydale, comes home six years later with a new identity. While searching for some mysterious evil threatening to destroy all, she begins to see how much she was missed.  
  
Author's Notes: The end is near, and so I face the final curtain. *Sobs* Oh, this is the last chapter (besides the epilogue, but that doesn't count). I hope you all loved this story. And, I hope you liked the weird little cliffhanger from the last chapter. A lot of you were angered at the fact that I may kill a character. But, as I said in the beginning, this will have a happy ending. I'm going to publish a little ficlet tomorrow or Monday while I prepare the sequel. So much to do, with no idea where to go with it. Crap, I'll figure it out. You all have been wonderful readers, and your reviews and pointers have been helpful. I love you so very much.  
  
PS: The disclaimer was simply from my brain. I love movies where the protagonist ends up with his/her true love. So, the disclaimer was probably an amalgam of all the sappy chick-flicks I've seen in my seventeen years. And the first sentence is taken from the song "My Way". God damned Ebay for fucking that song up!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Eighteen- Casualties of Battle  
  
It was something he thought quite a deal on: What would it be like to die? What would it be like to have that stake thrust through your heart? To disintegrate into dust that wafts in the wind? Would he feel any pain? What would happen to his soul?  
  
When Pitatch plunged the stake into his chest, Spike saw the world leave him slowly. Agony seared through his body. It wasn't just the knowledge that death was close. It was the look on Buffy's face. As he fell backwards, he kept his eyes on her. He saw the tears, the ache in her eyes, the disbelief.  
  
He was leaving her behind. After he promised to be there for her, for all eternity.  
  
All thoughts banished when he felt a release. His body turning to dust. The world became a black, noiseless room.  
  
Then, his body felt warmth. For nearly 100 years he was cold. And this new warmth was inviting and rapped around him, consuming him.  
  
Opening his eyes, the black world began to lighten. Was he going to heaven?  
  
A shape began to materialize in front of him. Buffy. She was floating above him. Then it was heaven, because his heaven would only contain her.  
  
She began to speak, her beautiful lips moving. He loved to kiss those lips, and felt better knowing that he would do so for eternity.  
  
But something was off. The calmness rushed off to a realization. Heaven was the building in the Initiative where he died. And Buffy wasn't floating above him. She was crouching on the platform above him. Crying and bleeding.  
  
Why would his angel be bleeding?  
  
Senses returned. His injuries began to hurt, and something heavy pressed onto his chest. And he could hear her talking.  
  
"Spike? What's going on?"  
  
This wasn't heaven. He was still on earth. A stake had gone through his heart, and he was still on earth.  
  
The heavy object on his chest turned out to be her axe. It was lying on him, no wound. Removing it, he sat up.  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Grief began to disappear from her face. "You're not dust?"  
  
Touching his body to confirm, a smile formed on his face. "Apparently not."  
  
"But I saw the stake go through your heart . . ."  
  
"Believe me, luv," he chuckled, standing, "I'm just as confused as you."  
  
Buffy stood with him. "But you're here."  
  
Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms. "Yeah."  
  
Cupping his face in her hands, Buffy stood on her toes to kiss him. As he rapped his arms around her waist, he entered her mouth, tasting her.  
  
I'm here, and she's here, and . . .  
  
Buffy pulled away quickly. She stared at him as if he was a stranger.  
  
"What the fuck is going on?"  
  
Confused, he held up his hands. "I don't know! If I could explain . . ."  
  
"Oh yeah! Explain this!" Grabbing his hand, she placed it on his neck, and pushed two fingers onto the skin.  
  
"Luv, what's going . . ."  
  
He stopped when he felt something. A thump.  
  
Then a second.  
  
Then a third, and a fourth, and a fifth. It was a steady stream of thumps. Coming from him.  
  
A heartbeat.  
  
"Holy shit." His other hand came up, feeling the other side of his neck. The heartbeat was still there.  
  
"Why are you doing that?" She looked almost like a child, fearful.  
  
"I know why."  
  
It was a voice behind them, someone coming into the room. Both looked at the new presence.  
  
Elyog.  
  
"What happened?" asked Buffy.  
  
Uneasily smiling, the demon approached the two. "You knew that the Leader had various other experiments besides the machine." As they nodded, she continued. "Although we didn't know why, he had us working on ways to make other demons energy sources for him."  
  
"Yeah, he said you had to find out how to make a vampire edible," Spike blurted out quickly, nodding furiously.  
  
Elyog smiled. "That was a hard problem. Making a vampire a source of energy that the Leader could use. I worked on it for months. Then, the answer came to me suddenly. It was so simple."  
  
"What was it?" Buffy asked.  
  
"To do that, you need to make the vampire human."  
  
Silence swallowed the room.  
  
"What?" Spike's mouth fell open.  
  
Rolling her eyes, Elyog continued. "It's not that hard. A vampire is just a human with a demon inside, like a virus."  
  
"No," screamed Buffy, "The human is dead! You're talking about bringing life back to a dead body!"  
  
"Calm down," Elyog put her hands up in defense, "That's not it." She put her hands down, then bent down to pick up the stake. "The Leader's plan was to re-animate the tissues, make them live." Bringing up the stake, she displayed it to the two. "A stake kills the demon. But this stake has a spell on it. The demon is killed, but the body remains, and life is forced back into the tissues."  
  
"So I'm just a living corpse?" growled Spike.  
  
"You're different. A regular vampire would be, but you have a soul. To live, the human must have a body, and a soul. The stake killed your demon, but because your soul protected you, it also brought you back to life."  
  
Walking to his side, Buffy took Spike's hand. "So he's alive? A human, I mean."  
  
"That's it. He doesn't need to feed off others, he has his own blood."  
  
Amazed, Buffy smiled, then turned her attention to Spike. He stared at the ground, pensive.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked.  
  
"This is too weird." His eyes began to water. "I'm mortal." Surprisingly, as the tears fell down his face, he began to laugh. "I'm alive. I'm alive!" Then, he grabbed Buffy and swung her around. "I'M GOD DAMNED HUMAN!"  
  
Stopping, he pulled her into a hungry kiss, devouring her mouth. Their kiss lasted an eternity.  
  
"Ah-hum." Elyog coughed, breaking apart the sweethearts. "I suggest you go celebrate where it's less depressing. After all," she smiled, "It's a beautiful day." Bending down, she looked at the body of her cousin, impaled with a pole. "I have some clean-up to do."  
  
Quickly becoming serious, Buffy went to her. "I'm so sorry it had to be this way . . ."  
  
"Shh," she raised her hand to silence, "They are simply casualties of war. They knew that when they fought." Sliding her arms through the body, she hoisted it up. "Go on. Go live."  
  
@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@  
  
A cool breeze tousled the leaves remaining on the branches. But the warm November sun shone down.  
  
From the darkness in the mouth of the cave, Spike and Buffy watched this scene. Drinking in the sights.  
  
Buffy walked into the sun. It was too warm for her jacket, so she shrugged it off, folding it in her arms. She turned and watched Spike, still in the safety of the darkness.  
  
"Come on," she beaconed, grabbing his arms and pulling him.  
  
"No," he stated, feet firmly planted, "I can't."  
  
Letting go, she backed up. "Why?"  
  
"I've thought that I was gonna live in the darkness forever. I don't know if I can be apart of this," he indicated the beautiful day, "Of this world."  
  
Hiding a smile, Buffy went into the darkness with him. "You can. I've been brought out of it so many times. And I'll be here for you."  
  
"Will you now?" he grinned, reverting back to his cocky attitude.  
  
"Duh!"  
  
Her hand found his, and he clutched it. Timidly, he put his foot out, and stepped into the bright day.  
  
"Wow, 's bright." Shading his eyes, he looked around. "Don't see what the big deal is."  
  
Rolling her eyes in annoyance, she punched him. "Then go back. See if I care."  
  
Beaming, he pulled her to him, holding her. "Not on your life."  
  
Tilting her head up, they shared a pure, sweet kiss. Then, she leaned her head on his chest.  
  
"So," Buffy asked quietly, "What are we gonna do now?"  
  
"You know pet," Spike answered, using his finger to lift her chin up, "I don't bloody know." 


	19. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
One year later  
  
A faint beeping roused Spike from his slumber. Some machine in the hallway was going off, and the nurses quickly turned it off.  
  
Growling, Spike adjusted his position on the chair. It wasn't a very comfortable chair, and no doubt his neck and back would be killing him for a week.  
  
On the verge of returning to sleep, Spike heard a cooing. It was followed by a small yawn. Grinning, he stood up, tiptoed across the private room, and approached the small bassinet.  
  
"Hey there, dear," he whispered, carefully reaching in and picking up his daughter, Dylan. Opening her small, pink mouth, she yawned.  
  
Chuckling to himself, he went back to his seat, cradling Dylan. Her eyes began to droop as he started to stroke her sandy-blonde head.  
  
Dylan had been a complete surprise. There was no intention for a pregnancy. Also, they though it impossible that a man, who became a vampire, remained one for nearly 130 years then was brought back to life, could father a child. But fate shone through, and gave them their beautiful daughter. Like him, Buffy was overjoyed.  
  
Buffy now slept in her hospital bed, worn out from twenty hours of labor. After Dylan's birth, the entire family came in to visit even though it was four in the morning. Tears and hugs followed, then the group left the new parents and child to sleep.  
  
Looking at his love, Spike sighed. He wasn't sure what was going to happen after this. Sure, he had a job at Xander's construction firm, and Buffy now worked at the Magic Box. They lived in a comfortable house near the Harris'. But the rest was uncertain. He was still getting used to the whole "being human" aspect. There were so many customs in the world that he had forgotten, or the ones he remembered were now outdated. Also, he and Buffy had not disgusted marriage, even though they became engaged on Valentine's Day. It was just too confusing.  
  
But, as the former vampire held his brand new daughter, it all faded away. He had two girls who loved him. His family might be the key to keep him from panicking.  
  
"Don't worry pet," he cooed, kissing the soft skin on Dylan's forehead, "I think everything will be ok." 


End file.
